Manny's Moonlight
by That-Cheeky-Bat
Summary: Manny's Moonlight is owned by a small Vampire clan who try to protect the Humans from Supernatural harm, but for how long? Within the City walls rules a Head Vampire unlike any other and he's beginning to grow weary of the 'Guardians' continued presence within his City. As an age old feud begins to reach its crest, will anyone be safe? Or will the death toll continue to grow?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: Any and all characters from Rise of the Guardians are copyright of DreamWorks. I created Drake, Doug, Diana and Laura (and possibly anyone else) to act as plot points so they are my creations

**Author****Note**: If you are weak stomached, don't like violence and aren't keen to gruesome subjects please heed this warning and do not, I REPEAT DO NOT, read any further. There is torture, deaths, and adult themes later. So once again, if you DO NOT like the aforementioned things above do not read this story!

However if you are going to wet your beak: Be patient with this story. I am working with things I've never actually worked on before, so I am completely new at some of the subjects contained in this work. Please also note that this story may host the characters from 'Rise of the Guardians', but that doesn't necessarily make them those characters. I've tried to keep them fairly close, but I have to add a little bit of roughness to some of them. I'll get to, hopefully, everything within this story and will hopefully fill in any plot holes (editor's already caught about 10 I've had to go through and fill in).

**Special thanks** to my editor pssnangel4 for reading the first chapter, then those that followed and then promptly yelled at me to post this. I wouldn't be halfway where I was in this story without her nagging and keen eye that annoys the bejeebers out of me as I have to fill things in.

Enjoy!

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**Chapter 1**: Manny's Moonlight

**Guardians:**

Nickolas North, referred to as North by both his friends and the regulars of the nightclub, was well liked and especially respected. North was usually found at the front entrance with a fierce scowl on his face. His scowl was only enhanced by his angled black bushy eyebrows which sat over bright blue eyes. He was also a fairly big man who stood at about six feet two inches with a large barrel chest and seemed to be naturally muscular, which made him all the more intimidating. North also had black hair which was held back in a small ponytail at the back of his head and a beard that was trimmed and cleanly cut. In all, nobody messed with North and the few who didn't know that found out fast enough. It was why North had been deemed the doorman and bouncer unanimously by his friends who worked inside the club.

Personally, North was okay with their decision. He liked being the scary guy up front, especially when younger men and women looked up to him with such wonder when he did something nice or gentle. He had quickly learned that messing with people was a lot of fun, especially when he'd knocked the teeth out of a pimp trying to get his whore from North's line the other night. North smirked, crossing his arms and standing by the entrance podium that held a single wireless black phone to which he could use to contact Tooth, Aster, or Sandy inside should he need too.

As if on cue, North shifted from his leaning against the brick wall and picked the phone up from its cradle. He dialed Aster at his bar, asking that he cover the door so that North himself could make his hourly rounds inside. Aster agreed, coming from inside within five minutes. North nodded his thanks and walked inside. The front door led to a fairly empty hallway, one that North always seemed to mentally remind himself that he really needed to buy some paintings for, or something to make it more interesting, and walked out onto the main seating area. The main seating area consisted of an array of seating arrangements. There were circular tables that didn't have any stools that allowed people to cluster around them better, and then there were the circular tables that had stools that allowed for people to sit while they drank their drinks or nibbled on the bar food. Lining the walls of this area were booths that people could sit at with a see through curtain. North ran his eyes around, ensuring that nothing bad was taking place here. He moved from the main seating area to the more 'private' booths on the sides, glancing within their confines to ensure nothing was happening behind those as well. After checking those came the really hard part of North's job.

The dance floor was always chaotic, no matter what day of the week it was. North almost had to bulldoze his way through the dance floor to get towards the lookout section that held the DJ booth. He climbed up, ran his eyes through the crowds, and caught something of interest. Right there on the dance floor the group of four was exchanging what looked to be drugs in pill format. North made his way over to the group of four near the middle, tapped each on their shoulder, and asked them to leave. They each glared at him, but followed his command without argument. That was actually a rarity. North walked them to the front door, marked their names down onto the 'No Entrance' list, and left them on their way. North looped back inside and continued his rounds. He made his way into the VIP upper deck that had a smaller version of the dance floor below with much less crowding. He scanned the bar area once again.

Tooth, a nickname she'd rather enjoyed from when she was Human and chose to keep upon her turning, stood behind the counter with a large group of fairly well behaved men and women in front of her. She winked at North and gave him the A-OK sign from her post. North noted that Tooth looked a little strained, but figured it was from having to both bartend and be waitress for this section of the club. North nodded, weaving his way through the dance floor and making sure nothing happened here as well. It was considerably easier here with less people. After being content that nothing was happening here North walked to the back. In the back there were various private rooms for VIPs to rent for a night or so. North knocked on each door before he would barge his head in, making sure nothing nefarious was going on. When he finished he headed back towards the front to relieve Aster of his temporary post.

North often wondered, as he made his way back to his post, why Sandy hadn't hired more people to help. North himself found it somewhat difficult to work as both the doorman and the bouncer for both the inside of the club and its perimeter. Even though, in all honesty, North was pretty good at his designated job. However, no matter how good he was at his job, he still missed things here and there. It was the exact reason why, not a week ago, the local Police ran a raid on the club and landed some mob bosses in the back VIP rooms in jail. North was lucky that Sandy had a _very_ good lawyer on hand for that one; otherwise they'd have all been accomplices.

North made his way back out to the front, Aster hopping down from the stool that sat near the podium and going back inside. North returned to his usual position, right foot propped up against the wall as he leaned his back on it, crossed his arms over his broad chest, and let his eyes wander over the two lines in front of him. The one to the left was the line for regulars and new clientele, the one to the right were VIPs that were either waiting for a room in the back to open up or for a few spots in the VIP section to become vacant. North's phone rang, which he leaned forward and picked up, nodding as Sandy tapped out an order over the phone line. North noted the tapping frequency. Sandy had just told him, even though Sandy was mute, that three spots had opened in the VIP section.

North pushed himself from the wall and went to the VIP line, lifting the velvet rope and waving for three to go in. He didn't need to check these people's IDs, he'd seen their faces enough the past few months to know even their surnames by heart. He sectioned the line off again and continued his leaning against the wall once he made sure the three had gone inside.

As North leaned against the wall he couldn't help but think about the few nefarious acts that were allowed to happen inside of the club. Sure, Sandy kept most of the acts clear of killing or bloodshed, but that didn't mean North was necessarily happy with the frequent mob bosses meeting here or the inexcusable ability for Pitch to reserve a room in the back on a dime. North scoffed, Pitch was a shady individual who worked for a Vampire here in town that was extremely power hungry. North had no idea why Sandy even allowed Pitch into the club, let alone why the guy was on the top priority list when it came to the reservation of rooms.

Though things like illegal meetings happened, North really had to give Sandy credit. Sandy usually kept the club extremely safe for both the innocents inside and the guilty. North especially liked how Sandy had managed to get all the mafia or nere do well clientele to sign a contract that kept them from killing or harming each other during meetings. Of course that didn't keep drugs, prostitution, or general nefarious acts from happening in the club. North, however, was able to keep about ninety percent of those acts down to a meager ten percent, even if he did want it to be a hundred percent safe.

North glanced at the line, noting the few conversations going on around him. The conversations were fairly empty of any threats, aside from people's social lives that was. North closed his eyes and listened intently with his sharp hearing. So and so was dating, this and that person were dating or getting married. It was the usual boring blather that North was actually content in hearing from his line. It sure as hell beat having to bust a few faces, like the pimp…or the drug dealer not a month ago.

North smirked, opening his eyes again. He scanned the crowd, noticing quite a few new faces for Friday night in the regular line. North wondered if he'd be able to let these new faces in or not before closing. It didn't seem too possible, considering that it was already nearing closing time at 2am. North glanced down at his podium, noting he had a few vouchers that would allow people immediate access into the club, or at least to the front of the line on a busy night. It was as he looked at the yellow tickets that he heard a few voices from the line.

"You're sure they'll even let us in? It's nearing two in the morning and we aren't even close to the door." The deep male voice asked cautiously.

"No." Replied a second, much more optimistic and chipper male voice replied. "However I do think that if we at least get noticed by the doorman then maybe, just maybe, we can get in next time."

North's eyes rose to the line on his left. He scanned the faces in the crowd, trying to find just who was having this particular conversation. He hated to admit it, but people who were anxious to get into the club were always on his list of let ins, especially when they sounded fairly harmless like these two males. It was part of the reason why the club itself had a fairly good group of regulars. North kept a close eye out on people who wanted to have fun, relax, and attempt to be safe while doing the latter. North's attention was drawn away from the line that he was scanning as he felt a tug at his pants leg. He looked down to see Sandy there, tapping his wrist like he had a watch on it.

North nodded, understanding the meaning. It was, thankfully, closing time. North handed out a few vouchers, especially one to a pretty young looking blonde haired girl with warm green eyes, and excused the line. He resisted the urge to laugh at the groans and yells of outrage that rang out from the lines. Instead he picked up his podium and set it inside the hallway in the small crevice it sat in during the day. He walked out into the club's floor and made sure to help everyone clear the club out for the night.

North eventually made his way to Aster's bar, followed quickly by Tooth, Aster, and then Sandy. They each heaved sighs of relief when Aster sat a glass of blood in front of them. Aster, took a drink, set his glass down, and looked grimly at his friends.

"Mates, we need help." He said bluntly in that thick Australian accent of his. "Human or Vamp, it doesn't matter. All they need to do is work and work hard."

Tooth nodded, setting her glass down, and then laid her head down on the table. Sandy nodded as well, followed by North grunting his agreement. The four silently finished their glasses of blood, Aster washed the glasses and finished the rest of the cleaning his bar needed that night, and the four went to sleep for a few hours before the next day broke the horizon.

**Jack:**

Jack didn't know how he'd been talked into this adventure. He imagined it was because the Bennett siblings were very persuasive, but the simple fact of the matter was that Jamie had a point when it came to Friday nights, which was, 'They didn't have one.' At least their Friday nights weren't a reliable one anymore.

Usually on Friday nights Jack, Jamie and Jamie's younger sister Sophie would all hit a local club that went by the name of Rattlers. The place at first had been an especially fun environment. They always had good bands in, the bartenders were all pleasant and smiling, and the crowds were just as welcoming to new people and regulars as they were with everyone else. However, as per luck, Rattlers was slowly becoming a rundown wreck of an establishment. The bands that played there on Friday nights, if you could even call them that, were all tone deaf adults who couldn't hit a high note if their lives depended on it…or hit the right note on their instruments for that matter. The bartenders who had previously been working there had moved on to new jobs, allowing for a bunch of sour individuals to take up their places. Jack shivered remembering the time he'd ordered six shots and got the stare of death from the older bartender.

As if that wasn't bad enough, Rattler's clientele had taken a big hit as well. The doorman there, along with the various bouncers in the club, had begun to allow things like drugs to be exchanged and prostitution to take place. The people within the club had then begun to become distasteful, especially when someone propositioned Sophie as a high end prostitute, without her knowledge. That had, in all honesty, been the last straw for the three. They had decided that night, after they'd gotten home safely, to switch to a new club.

It had taken Jamie a week to find this place, and to be honest Jack didn't believe the reviews when they seemed to hail this place as a safe haven for a fun night of dancing, drinking and entertainment. However, here Jack stood in line with the Bennett siblings. In the cold. With Sophie thoroughly snuggled into Jack's jacket that he'd lent her, even though she had a thick coat already over her shoulders. Jack had, in all honesty, wanted to be in the club tonight celebrating with Sophie and Jamie her admission into one of the local private Universities. It would appear, though, that fate wasn't on their side tonight as Jack heard the various groans from the crowded line as the large doorman who seemed to act as a bouncer as well shooed people from their spots with the announcement of the club closing. The doorman, though, did offer vouchers to at least 1 person from each group for immediate entrance or front line admittance for a night within this month.

Sophie, bless her, volunteered to go get the voucher so Jamie and Jack could start heading towards Jamie's car. Jack and Jamie halted when they reached the edge of the sidewalk, watching as Sophie took the voucher from the doorman with a warm smile and a 'Thank you.' This seemed to please the doorman, who smiled warmly at her before he took on that fierce looking scowl of his again. Sophie caught up to them and they all crossed the street to get to the large parking garage. After a few flights of stairs and a little more walking the three ended up at Jamie's small car. He unlocked the door and each of them bailed into it.

Jamie drove them home in silence with Sophie humming as the radio played some of her favorite songs. Jack smiled warmly at the two, considering himself lucky that he'd came across them in High School and even more thankful that they'd been willing to take him in as his foster home failed to provide him with any significant care. They were a fairly rich family, the mother a widow to a billionaire who had some money in a stock that was doing extremely well these days, but they often downplayed their status. Jamie and Sophie both worked, along with the mother, and none of them would spend money on something unless it was needed. Jack had been very lucky the day Jamie's mother asked him to move in, and then officially adopted him. It was that day that Jackson Burgess, the last name given to him when authorities couldn't track down his parents, became Jackson Bennett.

At the time she'd been drinking coffee in the kitchen that morning and glanced at Jack, who had been there for the past month on a long duration sleep over, and said to him over her newspaper, "Why don't you just live with us? Pick a room and take it."

Jack grinned at the memory, and how Jamie's mother had held him warmly as tears rolled down his face with the realization that he wasn't going to have to face that foster family of his again.

Jack's throat tightened. He didn't know what had happened to his original family. It was all a blur to him, almost like it was a fog that never seemed to fade. Jack rubbed his temples as a headache started from him trying to dig up a picture of his parents. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts, and then cleared his throat. He turned in his seat as Jamie pulled into the garage and sadly smiled at Sophie.

"Guess we'll have to wait on celebrating your entrance into that University." Jack said.

Sophie in turn shrugged, sending a quick smile his way, and hopped from the car. "It's not a big deal; we can always celebrate it later when we've got a place to actually do it at."

Jack smiled at her optimism, which was then added to by Jamie's as he said, "I'll drop by frequently this week and see if I can't get my foot in the door at some point. Then I'll see how I can get us to that VIP area. Nothing screams fun night with friends like a quieter, much less crowded, area."

Jack nodded agreement, figuring that he'd drop by as well to help when he got off classes at night. The three walked into the four bedroom home that was in a fairly good neighborhood, but wasn't breaking the bank in house payments, and made their way to the kitchen for an early 'Saturday Morning Breakfast Meeting,' or SMBM.

Jack immediately started causing trouble as he beat eggs and shredded some potatoes for hash browns. The three met the morning light laughing and eating their breakfast with a crisp morning beer as they sat on the couch hunkering in for Saturday morning cartoons.

It was a tradition that Jack hoped would never die.

**Pitch:**

On the higher side of town, but well within eyesight of the nightclub called Manny's Moonlight, Pitch stood atop his towering building and looked down at the club the 'good' Vampires practically lived in. He'd extended a welcoming hand into his boss and master's business to each of the accidental fledglings when he'd first came across them eons ago, but they'd all declined his offer. They had chosen the human world over their darker, more sinister world. He was, in all honesty, okay with that choice. The only problem, however, was that Pitch's sire and boss wanted to eliminate them now since they were apparently hurting his reputation. They were 'bad for business,' as his boss had told him. They were ruining the image he had worked so hard to achieve for their kind within the darker side of Humanity's world.

Pitch was well aware that a war was brewing on the horizon between their small side and his side. He didn't want to necessarily eliminate their side, mainly because he did enjoy their much more relaxing club compared to the board rooms and business meetings that took place in the darker areas of the City. Yet, Pitch was at his master's beck and call, and until his master was killed Pitch was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He also took mild sympathy on the Humans who were killed as his master drank their blood from their veins with reckless abandon. He also severely hated having to bury those bodies, along with the others that the boss gave him an order to kill, in either unmarked graves, freshly disturbed graves, or in the Ocean just down the street.

Pitch let out a sigh, watching as North closed the club and sent the many people standing in the line outside away. Pitch had been told by North that he appeared to be a thin, looming, shadow within his lit office at night. Nothing more than a thin black mass that appeared menacing and scary, especially since Pitch stood at about six foot four inches in height. At least, that's what North had described to him when he'd gone down to their club for business. Pitch tilted his head as he heard the elevator outside of his office ding, and then quickly turned and bowed with his hands behind his back as Drake, his creator and boss, walked into his large office through his double doors.

"Pitch, it is very good to see you." Drake stated, walking forward and looking down at where Pitch had been looking. He scoffed, leaning forward to peer at the dispersing crowds in the distance. "I see the weaklings are still surviving well."

Pitch nodded absently, keeping his face neutral and his body language passive. "Apparently they are."

Drake shifted suddenly as he straightening from his position and went towards Pitch's desk. "So, how did the meeting go earlier tonight?"

Pitch straightened and walked towards his desk in his boss' footsteps, the long coat he had worn to said meeting still draped over his shoulders. He picked up the folder from his desk and handed it to Drake. He opened the file and smiled, nodding enthusiastically. He murmured a few words of approval, outright chuckled at the state that Pitch's men had left the body in, and then met Pitch's glittering silver eyes that held a ring of yellow around their center.

"And where's the body?" Drake asked.

"It's in the graveyard, buried under the name Celine Franco. She had died last week and her funeral took place today, so the disturbed ground won't bring any attention to the grave."

Drake grinned, slapping Pitch on the shoulder. "Ah, good my boy. Some day you'll be running this City while I move into another to begin my rein elsewhere. You've got a good head on your shoulders Pitch. You're also a born leader."

Pitch nodded, hearing Drake say these things before. It had been a hundred years, actually, since Drake had started saying these words to him. Yet, Drake still remained within the city, never seeming to make any move elsewhere. Pitch often wondered when his maker was going to move so that he could lay off on the rightly nicknamed 'Guardians' in the club below.

"If I may, Drake, suggest something of interest about the Guardians?" He ventured carefully as his boss made his way towards the bar side of Pitch's office.

Drake nodded, pouring himself a healthy helping of blood from the glass decanter inside the fridge that was hidden amongst the bar cabinets of Pitch's office. "Go on."

Pitch became wary as Drake's voice took on a sharp tone. Pitch cleared his throat, taking off his long coat and setting it on the back of his leather chair.

"May I suggest holding off on any more attacks on the Guardians?" Pitch raised his hands passively as Drake's image flickered for a second as he turned too quickly for Pitch himself to keep up with. "I am merely stating that their revenue is bringing in the crowds to this section of the City. The more crowds we get, the more food we get."

Drake visibly relaxed, taking a healthy gulp of the blood he'd poured from the decanter. He circled the glass in his hand making the thick deep red liquid within the glass swirl. He stared at the whirlpool he was making within as his thoughts churned. He tilted his head, his green eyes flicking up to Pitch.

"No." He said simply, to which Pitch bowed again. "The reason I say this is simply because of the fact that when we set up meetings at their club our 'clients' tend to not fear us. They simply become too relaxed within their…optimistic setting." Drake finished the glass, setting it in the sink at the bar with a sigh. "It's bad for business when our clients don't fear us Pitch. You know that as much as I do."

Pitch nodded. "Excuse me, sir. The idea was idiotic, bordering on imbecilic."

Drake waved him off. "I will return tomorrow with a new client for you to meet. Hopefully you'll be as impressive as always with your work."

Pitch watched the doors of his office close, to which he turned back around and looked sadly down at the club. Sure, he wanted people to fear him, but he didn't want the amount of fear Drake caused in people. He wanted the more healthy fear, not the outright murderous fear Drake exuded.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: Any and all characters from Rise of the Guardians are copyright of DreamWorks. I created Drake, Doug, Diana and Laura (and possibly anyone else) to act as plot points so they are my creations

**AuthorNote**: You know...I _could_ write something here that is smart, witty or downright ridiculous, but I wont. Instead I would like to thank the person who left a review (No, seriously thank you from both my editor and I you made our day) and pray more peoples keep reading. I love seeing dem numbers go up.

Enjoy!

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**Chapter 2**: The Admittance

**Jack:**

Jack and Jamie both had been trying desperately to get into the nightclub called Manny's Moonlight. They had been intermittently dropping by throughout the week, Jamie on his nights off where he'd stand in the line for hours again and Jack either going by himself after he got out of his night classes or joining Jamie when he had the free time. However, it seemed that fate wasn't on their side when it came to getting into this particular club. Sure they _could_ use the voucher that Sophie had, but they all wanted to hold onto it just in case they happened upon a night that seemed fairly empty. They wanted to be smart about how they used that voucher, and they still had another three weeks on it to ensure that they would eventually get a spot.

Jack currently sat in his afternoon class on Wednesday, and checked his cell phone to see how much longer his three hour class was going to last before he could high tail it out of there and get to his crappy job at the local pizza parlor. Jack's mind wandered as the teacher prattled on about how movies were defined as 'good,' 'bad,' or 'masterpieces.' Personally, Jack didn't care. A movie was a movie. It was meant to entertain, good or bad, so why he was sitting in a class that analyzed movies after watching them he had no idea. Well, okay, Jack needed some extracurricular classes aside from his emphasis on his business and art classes. Jack had seen the class, read the description, signed up for it, and then found out that they'd watch a movie for the first two hours of the class before they would analyze it at the end for the last hour or so. Jackpot, free credits and a snore-fest.

Jack huffed, slouching in his seat when the teacher started on yet another rant that a student had somehow brought up in his analysis of the last movie they'd just watched. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, which he pulled out and read. It was from Sophie, asking him what he was doing after class. He replied with the usual, _Working_.

His reply from her was a sad face and nothing more. Jack smirked at that, putting his phone back into his hoodie pocket, and raised his hand to add into the conversation about how the colors within the movie were purposefully used to either show emotion or add to the theme. The teacher applauded this, going off on yet another rant that ensured nobody else would get a word in edge wise. This teacher, apparently, had a knack for ranting and losing track of time. So when everybody heard from the back of the class a 'Time's up!" shout they all gathered their materials when the teacher excused them. Of course they were promised that he'd continue it next week before the next movie.

Jack sighed and slung his backpack over his right shoulder. He walked quickly across campus, making sure to catch the 4:30 bus across town to get to his job at 5:30. He piled onto the bus and off of it with what felt like the same crowd every Wednesday. It was odd how synchronized people actually were when it came to their schedules. Jack walked into the pizzeria, stepping immediately to the left and going through the employee door there. He waved to a few people who were standing in the back making pizzas and got to the office area.

The manager glanced up at him as Jack hung his backpack on the coat hanger he had attached to the wall. Jack dug out his hat and work shirt, nodding sheepishly to the manager who watched him intently without even cracking a smile, and ducked out again. Jack sighed when he got out into the hallway again, heading for the men's room, and dreading his return to that office after he'd pulled off his current clothes and switched into his work clothes. He made his way back to the office, quietly, and opened his backpack to stuff his clothes into it.

Jack jumped when his manager cleared his throat behind Jack at the desk. Jack turned, slowly, and hunched his shoulders a little bit. The manager was giving him that stare, the one that had been described to him by everyone at this pizzeria, and immediately knew what conversation was about to take place. Jack took a seat when told to, and then the manager set into him like a freight train.

Through the entire ordeal the manager never cracked a smile, never showed any emotion in his eyes, and excused Jack from his office shortly after. Jack couldn't help dragging his feet from the office, both elated that he was fired for not cleaning the dishes on time and depressed at the fact that he'd just lost a third job in the spanse of two years. Jack seemed to shuffle through the rest of the night, leaving at eleven and collecting his last paycheck, and met Jamie in line for Manny's. They stood there for three hours, discussing Jack's streak of bad luck he'd been having the past few years.

"First it was that art teacher gig for kids that you taught on the weekends, then the clothing store shut down because it wasn't making any money and now you're telling me the pizzeria fired you because you weren't cleaning dishes on time when it was especially busy!?" Jamie burst, garnering the attention of the people around them.

Jack nodded, he honestly felt deflated. "Yea, not exactly the best streak of luck lately."

Jamie scoffed, crossing his arms over his leather jacket's front. "Well, at least Sophie gets to see you more often. You've been working yourself into the ground lately."

Jack sighed. "I know, but I've got tuition, books, bus passes to pay for, and I gotta pay your mom something for letting me crash your house."

Jamie shook his head. "I don't know why you do that, you know she thinks of you as her own kid."

Jack smiled lightly at that. "I know, but I still feel bad for _always_ being there and never seeming to move on like other foster kids."

Jamie leaned up against the wall and closed his eyes, shaking his head. "I still don't see what the big deal is. You're practically her kid."

Jack opened his mouth to reply, stating that he wasn't biologically related to Jamie's mother, Jamie or Sophie in any way, before he heard a strong voice behind him.

"Lost job?" The voice asked, the Russian accent thick, and the strength in that booming voice made Jack jump.

Jack turned around sharply, wondering how the fuck the doorman had sneaked up on him so quietly. Jack looked up, and up, until he finally met the hulking figure's face. Jack gulped, nodding when words failed him.

The doorman with a name tag that said 'North' on it crooked an index finger at them, tilting his head towards the front of the line. Jamie and Jack exchanged confused glances with one another before they followed the large doorman to his podium, where he lifted the velvet rope and pointed towards the thick black door that was currently propped open to reveal a rather bare hallway aside from the crook off to the side.

"Tell barman on main floor North said to give you free shots." North told them, and then smirked at the surprised look. "Also, jobless man, apply here tomorrow afternoon."

Jack and Jamie nodded, surprise making them utterly speechless. As they walked down the hallway and reached the end they turned, grinned at each other, and gave themselves the loudest high five they'd ever accomplished. Jamie tugged Jack along behind him after they rubbed the sting from their hands, relayed the message to the tribal tattooed barman, and cheered when he gave them each three shots of the best Scotch he had behind the counter.

**Guardians:**

Aster had been having a fairly plain night. He'd started his day with the usual morning cleaning of his bar area and the main dining area of the club. He'd make his rounds with a plastic tub and stack dirty glasses into it. It would usually take him about three to four trips before he managed to get all the glasses from the main dining area, the dance floor, and the booths. He'd then spent the next four hours cleaning the dishes, ensuring they dried, and then would neatly stack them. From there he'd go through his alcohol and ensure that they were still well stocked in that regard and replaced any he needed too. He would then sweep the area once he'd finished that and by ten in the morning he was ready to sleep.

He headed for his bedroom, stripping off his white tank top that had the nightclub's logo on it in black light reflective colors, and started the shower. He usually spent about ten minutes waiting for the bathroom to fog up a little, bringing the humid warmth he wanted as he checked a few things on the internet. He'd then strip off his jeans and underwear and jump into the warm shower. He'd finally get out of that and make sure he didn't need to shave. He stalked into his bedroom, going for the small kitchenette each of the bedrooms below the nightclub had, and dig out his supply of blood. He'd chug down a water bottle filled with blood, wince at the disgusting taste of cold blood that wasn't very filling, and head back into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

By eleven he was sound asleep in his bed, giving in to that lifeless sleep that overtook Vampires once they settled themselves into sleep. He had then woke up at six, dressed, chugged more blood, brushed his teeth again and then headed back up to the club. He met Tooth and North in the main area, joking with one another and then they began pestering him about his odd hobby.

"Should call you Bunny, not Aster." North muttered, bursting out laughing when Aster punched him in the side as he headed for the front door.

Aster had rolled his eyes. Ever since North found out that Aster was thinking about getting a house rabbit, an animal he happened to really like, North had been delivering hell to him ever since. With a sigh Aster welcomed the early birds to the club with a fresh beverage, and then by the time eight rolled around Aster was mixing drinks faster than people could keep up with him. He found the job somewhat monotonous, the same things to the same age group of people, and he had been surprised when two young men high fived once they entered the club and made their way over to him. Aster's brows had rose in surprise at their description of how the kid named Jack, who looked oddly like a brother to the more talkative guy in leather, had just lost his third job in the spanse of two years. Aster nodded sympathetically, asked what they wanted for their free shots, and set three shot glasses on the bar counter.

"Scotch!" Jack had shouted, earning a smirk from Aster.

"Scotch it is." Aster replied as the Jamie kid made a face of disgust. Aster chuckled, serving up the three shots, and set the bottle on the counter. "This is the most expensive one I've got here. Enjoy."

The Jack kid waved at him frantically as he shouted, "Wait!"

Aster turned back, waving his hand to pacify the growing crowd of people at his bar who were getting close to needing refills. He raised a brow in question at the kid.

"Care to join us for one?" The Jack kid asked.

Aster shrugged, pulled out a shot glass for himself, and filled it. The three tapped the glasses together and threw the shot back. Aster chuckled when the kid in the leather jacket openly gagged and patted his chest while tears gathered in his eyes. Aster took the bottle back, gave them kind regards, and set it back on his bar.

It had been an odd break in the continuous, and seeming predictable, young pairs of men who came here. They'd order something like Tequila or some manly mixed drink. It had a refreshing change, though, when the kid had shouted just plain Scotch. It was the reason Aster had pulled down the outright most expensive one, and the one that still had yet to ever be needing a refill order, and gave that to them. Aster, to his dislike, then went back to the typical young crowd at his bar. The two stuck around until closing, the kid in the leather jacket declining the last two shots. Aster laughed when he saw the Jack kid swig them back and pull his friend out to the dance floor before they closed for the night.

Aster sighed in relief when North came into the crowd, announcing in that booming voice of his that they were closing. North walked over to Aster with a grin on his face.

"You see two boys I sent in?" North asked with excitement evident in his voice.

"Aye mate, I did." Aster scrubbed his bar clean of any droplets of water before he began gathering glasses. "I also gave them three free shots of our expensive Scotch."

North got an indignant look. "You were supposed to give them expensive, Russian made, Vodka!"

Aster burst out a laugh. "Excuse me, mate, but I don't want two dead American kids on my bar from what you call 'Vodka.'"

North scoffed, leaving Aster to cleaning as he headed to clear people from the club. Aster once again started with his regular routine, finally cleaning up the area he was in charge of, and was about to head down to his bedroom before Sandy tapped a glass to get everyone's attention. They gathered around him, waiting to see what he was about to announce.

Sandy greeted them all with a warm smile and then began signing. _I'll be posting that we need help and are accepting applicants. We'll each need to sign up for a day slot where we can be up to receive applicants_.

Aster nudged North, smirking up at the big guy. "Looks like you might lose your job mate."

North snorted. "Please, anyone can bartend. Takes true hero to be doorman and bouncer."

Aster frowned at North, who irritatingly kept a glint of humor in his eyes throughout the entire quip. Sandy tapped the glass again, garnering the rivaling friend's attentions, and held up what looked like a calendar with slots to which they could dry erase their names into the time slots. Each of them filled out a slot, Aster getting the late afternoon slot after North's afternoon slot.

Sandy nodded, picking up the calendar and heading with them towards the back area that led to a small room that had a staircase down. They split, Aster taking the room in the middle between Tooth and the empty bedroom as North and Sandy went into their rooms next to each other. They all, at some point, got to bed. Although if Aster heard right North was watching one of his TV shows that he'd recorded before Aster headed to bed.

**Drake:**

Drake was currently being driven, in his limo, to what his secretary had deemed his '5 o'clock.' Drake had followed his well groomed and put together sireling, watching as he working the electronic gadget in his lap like he'd grown up with it. In all honesty, it was why Doug was his secretary. Doug seemed impervious to the passage of time, and with each new invention, Doug could somehow master it and turn it into something Drake could use to his benefit. For an example, that gadget Doug held, was his calendar. He had, from the last time he'd looked at the laptop in his office, all the slots filled with names and places with their designated times. It was a wondrous tool that Drake had began to rely on as time seemed to pass by.

Drake offered Doug a glass of wine, to which he declined, and contently went back to asking Drake questions about this month's scheduling process. Apparently one of the mafia bosses that Drake had scheduled to meet in a few days' time had gone and got himself tossed into the Ocean with cement shoes on his feet. Drake and Doug had then spent the next twelve hours switching things around, relaying messages to the ever reliable Pitch, and finally had to settle on Pitch meeting with one of the richer clients.

"I have here that you want his warehouse down by the docks and his yacht?" Pitch asked over the speaker from Doug's phone.

"That's correct, Pitch." Drake assured.

"And you want me to meet them Thursday at eight pm, but you don't have a designated spot." Pitch muttered that last bit more to himself, probably forgetting he was on speaker phone.

Drake cleared his throat. He had an idea where Pitch could meet them, and instead of wasting one of his other little sirelings time he could have Pitch give him a rundown of the place instead. After all, Pitch was much more experienced and would be able to adequately inform Drake of the layout. Drake smirked, glancing at Doug who had his hands up and ready to type in the meeting place.

"Make the meeting place at Manny's Moonlight." Drake said, watching with amusement as Doug's eyes widened in surprise. "Make sure you get the usual, more private, VIP room in the back. Also make sure you give me a rundown of all the happenings within the club. However your top most priority is to make sure you get that damn warehouse and yacht. Especially the warehouse."

The clicking of keyboard keys could he heard from Pitch's end of the conversation. "If they don't settle on the first price you're willing to give for the yacht what do you want me to do?"

Drake finished his glass of wine and set it into the elegant looking cup holder that was especially designed for wine glasses. "Go back as many times as you need, but inform me of the price before you agree to anything concrete. I want to know when they're just trying to milk money from me."

Pitch typed more things in. "Alright, so meet with the group at Manny's, VIP room number seven, at eight o'clock this Thursday?"

Drake smirked. "That's correct. Now, have a good night Pitch, I have work to do."

Drake and Doug were soon exiting the limo as it pulled up to one of the shady alleys in the city. They walked with purpose, which was why none of the drug users and sellers, alcoholics, or prostitutes of both sexes bothered them on their way through. They halted at the remains of what had once been a warehouse. This warehouse, if it could talk, would've had a lot of stories to tell from all the things that had happened within its walls. It was here, though, that Drake wanted to set up a new building that would house his version of an army. He'd be in need of one soon, especially if he planned on finally taking those annoying 'Guardians' out.

Drake and Doug met the real estate agent at his car, assuring him he'd be fine should he leave the confines of his slick BMW. The agent walked them around the sight, ensuring they didn't happen across anything that may lead to their demise should what's left of the roofing and flooring collapse either on them or under them. They finished the tour an hour later, the agent showing his confusion in why Drake was so interested in this particular plot of land.

It was simple, really. Drake was attached to this plot of land because it had spelled the end of Vampire hunters within the invisible walls within this city, or should he say _His_ city? It was here that Drake had singlehandedly killed an entire family and left them to be found as unidentifiable burnt corpses.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: Any and all characters from Rise of the Guardians are copyright of DreamWorks. I created Drake, Doug, Diana and Laura (and possibly anyone else) to act as plot points so they are my creations.

A/N: Heya everyone who has made it to this chapter! Thank you for reading this. It really is a lot of fun to write and I've been having fun exploring just what I can and can't write about *cough*. Also shout out to my editor for being da-bomb at making me realize I really do forget things when I write stuff and mentioning things I forgot to cover. You're awesome! And thank you Canadian and US viewers! Without you guys I probably wouldn't be posting the rest of this. Also to my one reviewer and now my single follower, seriously- *hearts* Thank you *hearts*.

I would thank my cat, but she just sits there and judges me silently...that's okay I'll throw my house rabbit at her. He'll put her in her place!

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**Chapter 3**: Help Wanted

**Jack:**

It was Thursday, which meant Jack was leaving his three hour long digital art class from the community college he attended. Since he didn't need to rush to work Jack decided it'd be nice, at least in the cool afternoon air, to walk home. He took a shortcut here and there, somehow winding up on the street that held the familiar brick walled settings of the nightlife section of the City. Jack perked up when he noticed this and remembered what the doorman had told him, _Apply_. Jack began scanning the signs of the building, all of the usually bright neon lights being off during the day, and found that if he hadn't have been reading those signs then he'd have walked right by Manny's Moonlight. It wasn't surprising to Jack, in all honesty. The monochromatic red brick walls of this particular street made all the buildings seem to blend together. Essentially if it had been a snake, it would have bit him.

Jack walked towards the large, heavy looking, black painted door and wondered how he'd go about getting into the club to apply. He saw neither a push or pull sign, and while he was looking he didn't notice any way to really open the door. Jack tried pushing against it, only to find that it wouldn't budge in the least. He frowned, wincing as something reflected the glare of the afternoon sun at him from the corner of his eye. He stepped back from the door and looked at the plastic sign that held bright letters on a piece of paper:

_Manny's Moonlight is now hiring. Enquire within_.

Jack straightened, running a few thoughts through his head before he glanced back at the black door that marked the entrance. Seeing as he was currently jobless, had school tuition to pay for in the next few weeks, and only had two hundred dollars in his bank account for rent, Jack settled on a decision.

He'd apply. It was a fairly easy decision, especially since Jack had never actually worked in a nightclub before. It would be a new experience that he'd probably be somewhat good at. Jack chewed on his lower lip, wondering if he should go home and throw together a resume. He decided he probably should, considering he had enough experience and contacts to sink a ship by this point.

Jack chewed on his lower lip, his thoughts circling in his head so fast he almost couldn't keep track of them. It was here, though, that he was thrown from his thoughts as a tall man in a pitch black long coat stepped up to the door, bumping him aside somewhat rudely, and knocked heavily on the door. The man in question turned, the dark sunglasses over his eyes giving him a real sinister look to go along with his rather scary looking face and combed back black hair, and then asked in a clean and crisp English accent:

"What are you staring at?"

Jack squeaked and turned meekly away. Jack couldn't help but think that the guy looked oddly familiar, which was why he rubbed his head as a sharp pain laced through it as he tried to remember why the guy looked familiar. The growing headache proved to be a great distraction, which stopped any and all thoughts on the guy in question. Great, he was getting a migraine. Jack sighed as he started down the street again, glancing at himself in the windows of the bar that sat next to the club. Jack looked at his reed thin figure, plain brown hair in a shaggy cut, and then his plain brown eyes. He rolled said eyes and muttered to himself about how the only abnormal thing about him was the white, healthy, teeth he held in his mouth. After reaching the end of the block and getting ready to cross the street as the light turned yellow, Jack gave one last look behind him towards the club.

He really did need a job. He couldn't spend the rest of his life living with Jamie and Sophie in one of their many spare bedrooms. He also really did want to get Sophie and Jamie into that club soon to celebrate. He turned back around to face the walkway, walked across the street, and marched home to throw together a fixed up resume.

**Sandy:**

Sandy opened the front door expecting to see some young, bouncy, happy Human standing at the door with a resume in his or her hands like the past few days. He frowned unhappily when he saw Pitch looming in the doorway. He sighed silently and stepped aside, allowing Pitch to come into the club. Pitch went over to the one table that had two chairs sitting across from each other and took a seat. Sandy signed to Pitch, asking if he wanted a glass of blood or not. Pitch shook his head, declining the gesture.

Sandy shrugged, putting the clean glass back where he'd got it from after he'd headed towards the bar thinking Pitch may have wanted a glass, and went back towards the table. He took a seat across from Pitch, noticing that as Pitch took off his dark sunglasses that he actually looked exhausted. Sandy's head tilted in curiosity. Sure, both he and Pitch were nocturnal by nature these days, but they didn't take on that kind of exhausted look unless they hadn't fed for awhile…that or their immortal lives were really beginning to wear them down. Sandy looked to his blood brother, Drake was their shared sire making them oddly connected like siblings, and became very worried.

Pitch sighed, slumping in his seat a little and then quickly rubbing his temples with his right hand. "I'll need a room in your VIP section tonight, one of the soundproofed ones. I also need you to make sure to have plenty of ways to clean up that room after in case things go sour."

Sandy nodded, hating this part of their relationship, and noticed that the exhaustion carried itself into Pitch's voice as well. Sandy gave Pitch pleading eyes, motioning with his hand towards his entire being. Pitch's dark brows rose, and then glanced down at himself. His mouth fell open slightly as he nodded and understood what Sandy was asking.

"I'm fine, old friend, just wearing out." Pitch replied, leaning forward. "Drake is a constant weight on my shoulders that never seems to falter in ruining my night."

Sandy gently patted Pitch's hand. It was in this moment that Sandy realized how lucky he'd been when he discovered that he wasn't under Drake's control. Pitch smiled for a brief second at the contact before he pulled his hand away to stand and meet his eyes with Sandy's.

"You need to be careful, brother. Drake is after you and your friends, and I have a feeling he'll be making a move soon." Pitch warned, moving so sharply that Sandy actually jumped back a little. He checked the slick looking watch on his wrist, frowning. "I came by to ensure that I could use that room and the warning was just a gift. Don't expect such courtesy next time."

Sandy nodded as his golden eyes hardened in understanding. He hated that his brother, who was his exact age at four hundred and thirty years old, stood on the opposite side of their world. It pained him, knowing that at some point he'd have to stake and behead his brother if he stayed under Drake's control much longer and feared for his brother's sanity should he ever have to do the same to Sandy. Sandy nodded again when Pitch asked about the room one last time as they walked to the door. Sandy soon ensured Pitch that he would have the room reserved and closed the door behind Pitch.

Sandy puffed out a breath, glancing up towards the ceiling in relief. In all honesty, that short meeting could have gone worse if North, Aster, or Tooth had walked in on it. All three of them disliked Pitch and didn't really know that he, unlike Sandy, hadn't managed to get out from under his master's control. Actually, the only reason Sandy was still alive was due to the fact that Drake hadn't caught on to the fact that he was exempt from Drake's control until he had already crossed an Ocean and disappeared from Drake's reach. If Drake had found out about Sandy the first few nights of his turning he'd have been staked, beheaded, and then burned. Sandy knew Drake was a sick bastard, and he also knew it was because of Drake that Pitch wasn't part of their small brigade of deviants, and also why Pitch killed so frequently. Drake was dishing out orders, mostly his dirty work, and Pitch had no choice but to follow those orders.

This control Drake had over Pitch made him a master, and without this control masters tended to not last long in their world. It was why uncontrolled fledglings, like Sandy, were troublesome and put down like wild dogs.

Sandy shivered. Not a pleasant thing to have happen to someone, let alone ponder on. As Sandy pushed from the door and went towards the stairs he nodded to Aster as he took on the next time slot to allow for people to come in and apply. Aster yawned, flashing sharp canine fangs before they were covered with his hand as he covered his yawn. Sandy sighed and signed to Aster to drink more blood to get his fangs to retract as he walked down the stairs and into his bedroom below.

**Drake:**

Drake had been sitting in his private limo just outside the Manny's Moonlight, having finished his work for the night earlier this morning. He'd taken a personal interest in watching the club of his independent sireling from four hundred years ago. He gripped the armrest tightly where the leather covering the armrest made a slight tearing noise below his grasp as he kept the anger, he always felt the anger rise with the memory of his escaped sireling, somewhat contained. Whenever he thought of Sandy, all he could think about was remembering the day he realized Sandy wasn't in his control, and had gone way beyond his reach of power after he'd realized this fact. Sandy had avoided the fate of the few before him, and to be honest Drake's prestige died a little that day when his sirelings found out that he'd failed to notice or kill Sandy. It was partly why he wanted to put the little shit in the ground for that reason alone, but then Sandy had gone off and formed his current ragtag group of lost Vampires who had either lost their master or were odd like him and could resist the commands of the one who had sired them.

Drake had noticed the thin reed younger gentleman stop outside of Manny's Moonlight's door, leaning down and reading the small sign on the wall before straightening and seeming to ponder something. Drake leaned forward, taking an interest in this particular boy. He looked somewhat familiar…maybe he was someone whose father had been killed by him personally. Drake narrowed his eyes at the boy, desperate to try to remember where he'd seen him before. After what felt like eons of faces flashing through his mind it clicked, after running a variety of horror struck faces through his age old mind, he chuckled. The boy was part of the Overland family, a family of Vampire hunters and ruffians who had favored themselves above his power, when they had been alive that was.

Drake smirked as he remembered that day. He'd tossed the boy to Pitch, told him to do what he wanted with the boy but to make sure he was in the ground after Pitch had finished with him. It hadn't been a command at the time, mostly a suggestion, but Drake realized his mistake when he'd seen the boy today. Drake had seen Pitch bow and duck from the warehouse with the boy that night, his face set in that unreadable mask he was so good at doing. Drake hadn't actually cared about the boy; the kid at the time was harmless at five. However, Drake wasn't about to let the rest of the family go. Drake had drained both the wife and the younger sister in front of the father, leaving their corpses to flop to the ground in a heap when he'd finished with them while the father was helpless to watch the scene unfold. Drake then stepped forward and slowly but surely broke every bone in the father's body, ending the man's life with popping his head like a balloon under his boot.

After that Drake had set the corpses of the entire family within the warehouse and left their bodies to openly burn and to be discovered by the local Police. It had been dubbed the Warehouse Massacre by the newspaper, and nobody had survived. Well, nobody that was found within the warehouse had survived. The kid was still kicking, apparently, which made Drake wonder how he'd missed that headline in the newspaper.

Drake at first ground his teeth in anger, trying to decipher why Pitch had allowed the kid to live all those years ago. However Drake's face shifted from outright confused anger to a devilish smirk. This was interesting. Drake sat back into the seat of his limo, his train of thought straying as soon as he saw Pitch bump past the boy and knock on the door. Drake made sure his limo was out of Pitch's view, and he rolled down the window to hear his brief question to the Overland boy. Drake chuckled as he watched said boy sulk off after that short exchange.

In all honesty Drake should be sleeping, seeing as it was early afternoon, but he sensed that Pitch was a little deflated at their meeting earlier that morning. His suggestion of relieving the pressure from the Guardians seemed odd and had seemingly came from nowhere. The oddity of this suggestion made Drake suspicious of his first in command. This was exactly why he had followed his first in command to Manny's Moonlight. Drake believed Pitch was losing his want to follow Drake's orders, which happened when they neared Pitch's age, and when Drake knew for sure that Pitch was breaking free then he would be sure to personally behead him. It was why Drake had so many first in commands over the years; he went through them like tissues. He'd use them to clean up the mess as rookies for the first two centuries, promote them to the next highest rank within his 'family' at three hundred, and then discard them when they crumpled after their fourth century of use.

Drake sat back in his limo, waiting for Pitch to reemerge from the club. He did shortly, looking a little better than when he'd gone in, but still appeared exhausted. Drake smirked, wondering if he could find a way to test his first in command. Drake informed the driver of the limo to drive him to his penthouse, watching the Overland boy as he passed him on the street.

A sick smile curved up Drake's face as he watched the boy. Drake knew the boy should've been dead, but it appeared that Pitch had failed in that regard. So, to test Pitch's alliance Drake would send Pitch again to watch the last of the Overland family and ensure that the boy never remembered who he was. If the boy did happen to remember then it would be Pitch's job to clean up the mess he should've taken care of years ago. It would be an interesting test, especially since Pitch had been the one who let the child go when he was supposed to have killed the boy.

Pitch had saved the young kid's life seventeen years ago apparently, now Pitch would either take the kid's life by his own fang or kill the kid, in front of him of course.

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UPDATE 07/14/2013: Hello all, That-Cheeky-Bat here...4 weeks late now on an update haha. It's coming...I swear. Life is stepping on my toes and my editors atm so we're taking awhile to churn things out :/ Bummer, eh?


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer**: Any and all characters from Rise of the Guardians are copyright of DreamWorks. I created Drake, Doug, Diana and Laura (and possibly anyone else) to act as plot points so they are my creations.

**A/N**: Sooooo...how you guys doin? Hey look, Chapter 4! Anyways, I'm so sorry this is late for those of you that read this story (the very few of you) and if you were awaiting for it to come out I once again apologize. MLG was awesome, and I was going to post this soon as I got back, but then I got sick, had an infected tooth and now my editor and I are both dealing with daily life problems (me a broken water pipe and her family related business). I will try to get Chapter 5 out soon...I really stink at doing this writing business.

Aug 10: Chap 5 coming out soon...like next 30mins max? My vacation keeps getting delayed D:

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**Chapter 4: **Jack, the New Guy

**Aster: **

Aster knew as soon as he woke up that today was going to be especially long. He kept his regular schedule, closing up his bar earlier at 2am and then cleaning it and getting to bed by at least five that morning, but was still surprised when his alarm clock woke him up and reminded him that he actually had to get up and start his night early at 3pm. Aster had slowly crawled from his bed, waking up for Vampires being sluggish, and managed to get his wits about him as he went through his wake up routine. At three that afternoon he made his way up the steps into the VIP section of the club before making his way out onto the main floor. Aster's night had started with the sun still shining in the sky, and he was sleepy again by the time four o'clock rolled around.

As Aster sat there he tried to remember what he'd been like when he was Human. He remembered that he was a day person, the dawn of each day bringing with it the hope of a new start. He remembered being optimistic, active, and enjoyed the beach or hiking. Aster ran a hand through his hair, which he kept in a short faux hawk style with the hair taking on this odd grayish/blue hue when he'd woken up as a Vamp. He wondered why his scars had vanished, and he had many scars from when he was a kid, but not his tribal tattoos that were continuous on his body. He looked at the markings, running his index finger of his right hand over the sharply edging tribal tattoo markings. His eyes trailed up from his wrists, where the tattoos began, to his biceps onto his shoulders unbroken the entire length. Those marks continued unbroken onto the crest of his shoulders, seeming to leak over his shoulders onto his upper back where the right and left sides of the tattoos met at his spine, parallel to each other along the spine as they descended down the center of his back. Eventually they flared outward at his hips with three sharp edges ending on the front of his hip bones before they danced backwards into themselves, lacing over his thighs and continuing that long, unbroken path onto his calves. On the upper, outermost, sides of his feet were the ending edges of the tattoos as they licked the outside corners of his feet. He ran his index finger over the marking on his forearm again before rubbing absently at the markings on his forehead as well, marveling at how the things had somehow managed to not be removed in the process of turning. Oddly he was thankful they had remained because allowing the Aborigine Elder to mark him like that had hurt like a bitch for one thing and they acted as constant reminders for who he had been before he was attacked and turned.

As time ticked by Aster slowly became bored and the constant gnawing sensation his hunger was causing began to get very distracting. His annoyance at his hunger filtered through to his current job and he was beginning to give up hope on manning the door for the remainder of the day. He had literally sat there, seemingly all day to him, and had nobody come in to apply. He sighed, sitting back in the wooden chair and drinking the last of the blood from the glass he'd poured mainly from boredom. It wasn't a good sign that his thirst was still there even after he'd drank blood, but for now that worry could sit on the backburner. He stood, leaving the glass neglected on the table for the time being. He'd have plenty of time to clean the glass before they opened tonight, and possibly more time to do a few other things since Thursday night seemed to be the slowest night.

He dug out his cigarettes from his back pocket, then his lighter, and headed for the front door in the hope that the cigarette would stop his craving, or at least sedate it. Sometimes, but not very often, addictive habits helped to curb the thirst. Smoking or drinking alcohol, for the best examples, was usually the go to solutions for some unknown reason. For Aster smoking was something to busy himself with, a distraction, that ensured he wasn't focusing purely on that gnawing sensation in the center of his being. For others, like Tooth for example, he happened to know the outright disgusting taste of some alcohol usually dampened the thirst just because of how distracting the taste was. He propped the entrance door open to the club, leaning against the brick wall and squinting at the bright sunlight that met his eyes as it descended towards the horizon.

As Aster looked forward, taking the first drag on his now lit cigarette, his memory was sparked as he thought about Australia. He missed his home, family, and knew that even if he returned there today he'd never see them. They were all dead these days; every last one of his bloodline was gone. It had been a sad turn of luck. His father had died early from a bad heart, then mother went from illness that overtook her in the night shortly after his father's passing. After her was his oldest sister Jeanne from a gunfight she'd somehow gotten involved in. Shortly thereafter Frankie and James both died in the outback by a spider bite and a kangaroo mauling. His final sibling, and his favorite, Jack had died at an old age. Jack had never married, lived a solitary life, and died in his sleep at eighty after Aster had tried to turn him.

Aster sighed. Out of that entire lot, he missed his little brother Jacky the most. The kid had such hope. An artist, writer, and naturally intelligent, he'd been handed every skill on a platter. It was sad to see that Jack had only managed to acquire some wealth through a few choice children's books, but Aster was still sad that Jack's line had died off. The world needed intelligence, and his little brother Jack was one of the people who 'should' have bred.

Aster jerked from his thoughts when he heard someone clear their throat next to him. He straightened from the wall, finishing off his cigarette and then snubbing the lit end. Aster looked at the brown eyed, shaggy brown haired guy in front of him who stood just a few inches below him at five eleven, and raised a brow at the kid.

"Yea?" He asked, accidentally sounding somewhat menacing as his eyes roamed the guy next to him.

This obviously set the kid on edge because he began to twitch nervously, his right foot rubbing over the left as if the kid was trying to scratch an itch through his thick soled shoes. Aster sighed, glancing up at the sky for a second before he turned and waved the kid into the club. If Aster was assuming right this kid was here to apply for a job he didn't appear old enough to do. Aster closed the door of the club as he followed the kid inside, relishing the darkness within. He brushed past the table he had been sitting at, nabbing up the glass he'd been drinking from and as he made his way over to his bar to rinse the glass out he nodded to the chair he had previously been sitting at.

"Have a seat." Aster started washing the glass, waving his hand to the bar behind him as he asked, "Can I get you something? Soda? Water?"

The kid shook his head no, clearing his throat and raising a brow at Aster questioningly. "No, but thank you for the offer. I'm here to apply. Your doorman and that sign out front told me you guys needed to hire a few people?"

Aster frowned at the kid. He didn't quite remember North ever mentioning that, but then again the days just seemed to fly by him these days. He never really checked into reality. _Course it was a bitch to tune into reality when your thirst was driving you up a wall and all you saw were edible meals in front of you nightly_, Aster thought to himself suddenly. He shrugged the annoying voice off, going and sitting across from the kid at the table he'd taken up residence at.

"Okay, let's see your ID first kiddo. Ya don't look old enough to even get in here." Aster told him, hanging his left arm over the back of his chair as he beckoned for the kid's ID.

He stared at the guy opposite him. He wasn't entirely bad looking, if he said so himself. Shaggy brown hair cut in a boyish haircut with wide brown eyes that were a brown that had odd streaks of gold and green intermixed in small sections to break up those brown depths. He had a pert nose, a wide mouth with teeth that were freakishly white and healthy. Then there was that defined jaw line on such a young face. Maybe it was due to the kid's reed-thin body type or maybe it was just really good genes, but Aster was drawn to that jaw line. He ripped his eyes from the trail it was heading as it followed that jaw line to the kid's throat where he heard the pulse in the kid's throat pick up. He closed his eyes for a moment, pushing back at the thirst within him and then he heard a hilarious noise from in front of him.

The kid openly huffed at Aster, which surprised him, but he did note the kid's eyes wandering the length of his form as he had just done to the kid. "You served me the best Scotch you had at your bar last night!"

Aster frowned, trying to remember. Still, he beckoned for the kid's ID. The kid handed it over, to which Aster stood and went back over to his bar and grabbed up the light that allowed him to check for fake IDs. The kid was clear, and then Aster saw the kid's name. Jackson Burgess Bennett. Aster smirked. Oh! _That_ kid. He was the loud mouth kid with the great smile that made his friend cringe as he announced 'Scotch' loudly for their drink that notable night as they broke the odd monotony of patron's orders. Aster walked back over, handing the kid his ID, wiping the ghosting of a smile from his face. Jack warily looked to him, tucking his ID back into his wallet, which he then tucked into the back pocket of his pants. He huffed again, glaring at Aster in a way that made him chuckle.

"Alright kid, alright. Enough with the death glares. I'm sorry, but do ya know how many blokes have come in and out in the amount of time since I saw ya? Ya can't seriously expect me to remember ya with the crowds we get." Aster said gently, ignoring the fact that he remembered the kid's smile in particular.

Jack sighed, looking oddly deflated, nodding his head. "Yea, I suppose you're right."

If he didn't know any better, he'd have just assumed Jack had _wanted _to be remembered by him. He tapped a finger on the folder that sat on the table that sat between them. "Your resume?"

Jack nodded. Aster easily slipped it across the table towards himself as he smoothly straightened the folder in a quick half circle motion as he slipped it across the table and opened it. As Aster began to look at the folder he noticed Jack start to twitch nervously in front of him again. Aster watched as Jack rubbed his neck, tried to hide in what looked like an invisible coat as he imitated a turtle receding into its shell, and then slumped in his seat. Aster snickered to himself as he ran his eyes over Jack's resume.

Jack had a High School diploma and an AA from the local Community College. He had the past five years of work experience on the piece of paper. Aster ran his eyes over each of the spots he'd worked at. The first had been cash register at a grocery store, a usual beginning point for any sixteen year old if Aster's math was correct as he looked at the date Jack started and ended. It must have been a summer job because shortly after that stint in the grocery store was the next job: retail clerk. From there it was another stint as a retail clerk after about two years of work within that first retail job. From there it was one more retail related job, a clothing store Aster had gone to once when it had opened and only again when Tooth had dragged him to the clothing store as it closed at the beginning of this year. Then, within this week was the last job: a cash register clerk at a pizza parlor. He then noted that Jack had, through the length of all these jobs had acted as an assistant to an art instructor over the course of the years. Aster sighed; he would have really liked to have seen _some _kind of bartending experience on the resume. He glanced up at Jack, which got Jack's attention and made the kid sit up even though Aster noted how deflated the kid looked.

One look at those big pleading brown eyes and Aster did something he never thought he would hear his usual, hardass, self say:

"I'd like to see some bartending experience on this thing." Aster muttered more to himself than Jack. However he took into account what Sandy had said, which was, to hire anybody that seemed decent and looked to be a hard worker. This kid Jack seemed like a hard worker as his eyes gazed down at the list of jobs in front of him. "Listen, I personally think ya need some bartending experience to even apply here seeing as its one of our main incomes. But, since I have some spare time and I'm sure our second bartender, Tianna, would be more than happy to help ya if ya flash those pearly whites of yers to her, I figure we can spend some time practicing with ya until ya get your license. We got a few other people hired already anyway that'll help open up some of our time to help ya. Till then…I don't know maybe just act as a waiter-type to the VIP room primarily and maybe act as a bust boy for my section. I know Tooth, sorry Tianna, needs help serving some of her patrons."

Jack's smile was so white it almost blinded Aster. The kid jumped from his seat, slamming his hands down on the table, and looked excitedly at Aster.

"Does this mean I'm hired!?" He asked, his voice matching the excitement on his face.

Aster nodded and was grabbed up into a hug by the kid, the touch from the kid something he enjoyed a little too much even if he did growl towards the kid and pried himself from his grasp. By the time he got free of Jack's arms Sandy, North, and Tooth all emerged from the back VIP room. Upon telling them to meet their new employee they each greeted Jack in their own way. Tooth cheered, introducing herself to Jack and in the process of welcoming him marveled at his teeth. North welcomed him as well, but the bear hug he'd taken the boy up in looked crushing. Then Sandy held out his hand, shaking Jack's, and asking if Jack wouldn't mind starting immediately.

**Jack:**

A day later Jack blinked his eyes in disbelief. He currently stood wearing one of Aster's old collared red shirts with a small logo of a full moon with a few eclipsing clouds over it. Tooth had suggested he borrow the shirt until Jack's came in with the next order of smaller sized shirts. Tooth had also used Sandy's labeler to make Jack a temporary name tag to cover Aster's name. He took a calming breath; however that calming breath was replaced once again with uncontrollable excitement. He was working, yet again, but this time he had a fairly good feeling about this particular job.

"Jack!" Aster shouted from his place behind the bar of the main area. "Get yer arse in gear, ya dill, and help Tooth in the VIP section!"

Jack had, as he looked over at the woman wearing an array of colors on her clothes, asked Tooth about her name. She'd just stated that she preferred her nickname more than her original name, and boy did her nickname fit. As soon as everyone dispersed the other day she had immediately set away to staring at his teeth, trying to figure out _how _his teeth were as white as they were. It had taken Aster to pry her hands from Jack's mouth, and then he had to drag Tooth to her section for that night of work as Jack headed home with a tentative schedule written up by Sandy that stated to work tonight and be there by 6pm.

Jack nodded at Aster's command, rushing towards the back VIP section and making his way through the crowd that was there to open part of the bar and squeeze behind it to help Tooth. Jack marveled at how Tooth's hands seemed to fly effortlessly over the bar as she scooped ice or refilled tumblers with beer. He'd also watch as she easily, while looking up and talking to customers, mix together drinks with the correct amounts. When she finished with the people at her bar she'd start making mass quantities of drinks, serve them to glasses, and then tell Jack which VIP room to take them too. He would then rush off to deliver the drinks, accepting the tips sitting on the table, and dropping them off at the tip jar near the cash register by Tooth. Before he could fully finish turning around he'd notice Tooth mixing another large group of drinks together and sending him off again to another room.

Throughout the busy night, at least until about eleven, he'd been feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket all night. When he finally got a few minutes of a break, given to him by Tooth since she was somewhat taking one herself, he pulled out his phone and checked the messages. There had been six phone calls from Sophie and Jamie combined and about five texts. All of the texts were asking Jack where he was.

Jack slapped his head, wondering how the hell he'd forgotten to call or text them to let them know he wasn't getting home till late tonight, let alone how he'd forgotten to tell them he managed to bag a job at Manny's. Jack sent a response message telling his friends that he managed to get a job earlier today and was currently busy working. They seemed content with that answer because his phone didn't vibrate in response. As Tooth and Jack both noticed that the crowds were starting to filter from the VIP room they decided to send Jack out to see if either Aster or North needed help out in the main area.

As Jack slipped through people and a few overly crowded tables, he finally made it to Aster's bar. Aster sent him off with a few refills to drop off at the booth tables and when he returned Aster had hung up his phone and told Jack to work the door for North. Jack headed out that way pretty quickly, seeing as it was practically around the corner and nobody stood in the way of the hallway. He slipped out through the front door and took up North's post. He didn't do much as he sat there because North told him not to let anyone in. So he mainly just looked at the people standing in line and wondered if Jamie, Sophie and him had all looked as cold as the people who stood in the line did.

As Jack spent time watching the people in line he hadn't been paying much attention to his peripheral vision. If he had he would have noticed the shadows shifting slightly and then would have seen the man from earlier yesterday materialize as if from nowhere. Jack, though, hadn't seen this and jumped when the man in question cleared his throat and looked down his nose at Jack with an irritated glare.

"You again?" He seemed to mutter more to himself than Jack.

Jack nodded, sending a small smile to the guy. "Can I…uh…help you?"

Jack noticed the irritated scoff the guy made, but didn't catch the eye roll. "Yes, I'm here on a scheduled meeting in VIP room number seven. Could you get out of my way so I can get back there?"

Jack was about to turn to check the papers on the podium for such reservations when he felt a tug on his jean's legging. Jack glanced down to see Sandy standing below him. Jack raised a brow when Sandy signed something to him that he really didn't understand. As if noticing this Sandy just gently moved Jack to the side and lifted the velvet rope for the guy. The guy thanked Sandy, stalking through to the entrance and swiftly walked into its confines. Jack looked down at Sandy, his brows raised in surprise at the guy's automatic entrance.

Sandy, as if sensing this confusion, grabbed up a pen and paper. He wrote on the paper, and then pointed to the sheet of paper on the podium that had a reservation list on it. Jack took the paper that was handed to him and read the note: _Pitch is an old time customer, doesn't do well with new doormen. He came in this morning and reserved room seven again in the VIP section. You'd do well to remember his name and face for next time._

Jack glanced down at Sandy, who merely grinned and shrugged. Jack chuckled.

"I better know his name or else he might snap at me with that clipped English accent of his?" Jack teased, earning a silent chuckle from Sandy.

Sandy left shaking an index finger at Jack. Jack proceeded to cross off Pitch's name under the four other names that had been apparently meeting him in the same room. Jack's brows then rose when he realized the meeting had been scheduled for eight that night, not eleven forty five. Jack's brow knitted in worry. He hoped those guys that were meeting Pitch weren't going to cause trouble for him being so late. It seemed to go over without anything bad happening, seeing as North soon lumbered out of the club and sent Jack back to the bar to help either Aster or Tooth.

Seeing as neither really needed his help, Jack began to gather the glasses off tables that had been vacated. He'd take the selection to the back kitchen area under Sandy's office that was connected to both Tooth and Aster's bar and began to do the dishes. Jack wondered where the cook was for this large, unused kitchen area, but he figured that was why they were hiring—maybe they wanted to expand their business to include bar food too? The rest of the night went by smoothly, and at two in the morning Jack was told to go home by Aster with a: 'You've done enough, mate'. Apparently he'd noticed Jack had slowly been cleaning the area.

**Pitch:**

Pitch was extremely late, and he damn well knew it. Of course he hadn't expected to have to delay the meeting to today and then having his earlier appointment take four hours to divulge the information Pitch had needed out of his squealing pig. Pitch grimaced, remembering how he'd had to order one of Drake's underlings to yank off yet another fingernail. It had taken Pitch a good four hours to get the information he needed from the guy, and then another thirty minutes to get the guy well situated in a snug fitting pair of cement shoes, alive, and then dump him in the River. So Pitch was running late which he was sure would infuriate the men he was supposed to meet, and this just seemed to add to the fire that was Pitch's temper.

When Pitch finally arrived at Manny's Moonlight that night it was eleven forty five and some new guy was standing at the door. Pitch had frowned at first, wondering why the hell Sandy or North hadn't been there waiting for him to arrive. He was already late, making him have to elbow his way past a new guy was just going to delay him further.

Pitch had finally made it to the front of the VIP line, getting growled and yelled at by the various individuals there, and walked straight up to the podium the guy was sitting at. Once again, Pitch had been expecting Sandy, not this guy who was _very_ Human. Pitch had stopped dead in his tracks and made sure to make a loud noise. The kid, to his amusement, jumped in surprise. This kid then looked up at him with a questioning look. Pitch was taken aback when he remembered the guy from the other day who he had scared off—at least he had thought he scared him off.

"You again?" Pitch had said irritably.

"Can I…uh…help you?" The kid responded, confusion apparent on his face.

Pitch scoffed, managing to let his irritation with this entire day and situation show in that simple noise. "Yes, I'm here on a scheduled meeting in VIP room number seven. Could you get out of my way so I can get back there?"

As if the kid was being looked after by some angel of luck, Sandy happened to come out to the front to make sure his new doorman was doing alright. Sandy glanced up at Pitch, signed _Hello_ and _Come right in_, and lifted the velvet rope from between them. Pitch then stalked into the club, his irritation ignited again from his second meeting with that annoying kid.

As Pitch walked into VIP room number seven after being flipped off by Aster, glared at warily by North, and glared daggers at by Tooth, he noticed that the men he was meeting were all thoroughly drunk. He greeted each member of one of Drake's rival mafia with a firm handshake. He had to make sure this meeting went well, or at least attempt to recover from being close to four hours late for the meeting. He soon sat down, swinging the manila folder towards him as the men all cheered and took a shot of something they'd apparently just ordered from the bar.

Pitch was surprised that none of these men seemed irritated with him being late. It was very odd, considering the mafia's boss was known for putting people in their graves for them being tardy for meetings. He soon shrugged the thought off, figuring Drake had probably bought off the thugs at some point to appease his late appearance.

Pitch ran his eyes over the papers in front of him. One of the papers was a residential lease, one that Drake would eventually need to sign himself should he hope to own the property. Pitch grazed the paperwork, ensuring it was the right warehouse at the right location. He checked the price and made sure it was the right amount that had originally been discussed. Pitch found the price hadn't changed, and even found a card clipped to the paperwork with the realtor's name and phone number on it accompanied by a picture of said real estate agent. Pitch turned that paperwork over and went onto the next lot of stabled papers.

It was here that Pitch's brows rose. He took in the picture of the yacht that Drake wanted to buy for 'business.' It was big, well more like giant to him. It could hold up to ninety people at a time, and that was just on the main deck. Pitch's brows rose and he let out a whistle at the yacht's beauty. He ran through a few photos of the interior and found everything to be made of the best possible furnishings as possible. Definitely within the range of Drake's tastes. Pitch put the pictures down and then began reading through the paperwork. Once again he grazed it before he took a sharp inhale. The price for the yacht had gone up about fifty thousand.

Pitch angrily brought up the price change, but simmered when he realized he was wasting his words on shitfaced mafia men. He instead sent them back with a switched price on the yacht while he took the lease paperwork for the warehouse so Drake could sign it when he met with the realtor. The men got up to leave with their work, and in all honesty, Pitch couldn't believe how passive the entire meeting had gone. He'd been even more surprised at how the men seemed to actually enjoy themselves during a meeting that was a critical junction between their gang and Drake's not butting heads anytime in the near future. Pitch shrugged, walking out to Tooth's bar and ordering a Red Russian. She obliged, hiding her general dislike of him behind that warm smile of hers as she rattled on about something, and then nodded her goodbye to Pitch as he left a twenty dollar tip for her.

As Pitch walked out onto the main hall he noticed the new guy leaving. Pitch glared after the kid, wondering if he felt the daggers Pitch sent his direction. Pitch ground his teeth, trying to figure out why Sandy hired a Human in the first place. Sandy and his gang of idiots were supposed to be keeping people safe from their kind, not putting them in the damned fox's den. He noticed Sandy walking away towards his stairway that led to the small office just to the right of Tooth's bar. Pitch caught up to him, yelling for him to stop.

Sandy obliged, to which Pitch immediately stated, "Who is that Human you hired up front?"

Sandy looked up to Pitch, somewhat confused. He moved his hands furiously quick and Pitch had to make him repeat it at a slower rate since he almost couldn't keep up with his hands.

_His name is Jackson Bennett, but prefers to be called Jack. He's our newest hire and I promise he won't hold you up at the door anymore._ Sandy's brows raised in question at Pitch as he then signed, _Why were you so late for the meeting tonight?_

Pitch sighed. "I had some trouble with an earlier meeting."

Sandy frowned, knowing exactly what Pitch meant by that. Pitch just crossed his arms and met Sandy's frown with his own.

"Just make sure the kid knows not to hold me up next time." Pitch muttered, turning on his heel and leaving.

He made his way back out of Manny's and headed to the building that held his office. He was about to settle down at his desk when Drake came barging into the room without as much as a courtesy knock. He wanted to groan, mainly because today had already been a shit fest and he didn't really want to deal with anymore. However, knowing Drake's irritable nature and figuring a few extra minutes of annoyance would save his sanity in the long run, Pitch kept standing as Drake made his way over to Pitch's desk.

"Well Pitch, how'd the meeting go?" Drake asked almost immediately. He waved for Pitch to sit down, to which he did.

Pitch nodded his head and then shrugged his shoulder. "Their price for the warehouse was on target with your original price; however the yacht got raised by about fifty thousand. I sent them back with a reduced price and hopefully they'll agree to that amount over the one they gave me."

Drake frowned at first, rubbing his chin in thought. He shrugged, eventually, which surprised Pitch to no end. In all honesty he had expected Drake to flip his very desk onto him. Instead Drake simply turned and started to head from the office.

"Fine job Pitch. If the price you gave them doesn't satisfy their boss then pay for the price they give you next. I'll have a meeting set up within the next week or so again." Drake stopped at Pitch's office door, opening it and turning to face Pitch. "Oh, and one more thing Pitch?"

Pitch looked up from the folder he had just set on his desk. At first he'd been ignoring the growing fear that was taking up residence within his body, but that fear just seemed to amplify when he looked up into his sire's eyes. He cautiously stood from his seated position, getting ready to defend himself should he need too, and kept a rather meek disposition about his movements.

"Do you remember a few years ago we found a few Vampire Hunters?" Drake asked, waving his hand like it was balancing two weights on either side. "If I remember right it was about seventeen some years ago to be exact."

Pitch nodded, trying for the life of him to remember what exactly Drake was talking about. Pitch's memory was pretty good, but Drake seemed to have one like a goddamn safe. Once something was seen it was stored in his head and never saw light again unless Drake brought it up. It was both a blessing and a curse to his sire.

"Do you remember what you did with that Overland boy I sent with you?" Drake asked, lifting his hand and looking at his nails.

Pitch shook his head at first, narrowing his eyes as he tried to recall who exactly Drake meant. This seemed to annoy Drake to the point where Drake actually cleared his throat to gain Pitch's attention again.

Pitch merely shrugged choosing to go out on a limb with his answer. "I suppose I killed him?"

This didn't seem to please Drake because he suddenly bolted across the room and had Pitch thrown against his own bar so fast Pitch couldn't keep up with the act. Pitch sat up from his now ruined bar, shattered glass and splintered wood surrounding the dent his body had made on it.

"Killed him!?" Drake yelled, his once green eyes now flushed red as his taloned hands gripped Pitch by his torn shirt. "You didn't kill him, Pitch. I happened by Manny's about the time you arrived and that boy I told you to kill is currently working at Manny's Moonlight, I saw him tonight manning the door! You were supposed to shove the little brat's body in a ditch somewhere, not allow him to walk away unscathed."

Pitch winced as Drake set a firm punch to his right cheek, feeling the bone there cave in and tasting his own blood, and bone, on his tongue. Pitch winced, remembering the kid who had been the doorman earlier tonight. He frowned. He could have sworn he killed the kid as he'd been told to do…except he hadn't been told to kill the kid, Pitch remembered suddenly. Drake had merely suggested it at the time. Pitch's thoughts were once again yanked into reality as Drake gave him another shake.

"Guess what you've just signed yourself up for Pitch?" Drake mockingly asked as his features shifted to the haunting guise he wore when he was channeling his power's age. "You get to be the one who watches the boy and ensures that your little _mistake_ doesn't wake up and remember _who_ or _what_ his family did to our kind." Pitch looked up at Drake, whose features shifted back to their more Human looks. "Make sure he doesn't remember, and if he does by some odd chance remember then I kill you both, personally."

Drake dropped his grip he had on Pitch's lapels and within the blink of an eye disappeared from Pitch's sight. Pitch was left with a pile of rubble that used to be his bar, a broken cheek that was quickly healing, and a definitive babysitting duty that he had to fit in with everything else he had on his plate. Pitch sighed, wondering if maybe death was the brighter side of this particular deck of cards that he'd just been handed.

* * *

Is there anyone from Australia willing to PM me a list of colloquial metaphors/phrases, names/phrases you guys use on a fairly daily basis? I've never had the pleasure of meeting anyone from Australia so you guys are a giant question mark on the map (though ironically I've met just about everyone else in my somewhat short life). Any help from you guys would be greatly appreciated! Also give me an example of it as best as you can if you happen to PM me. I'd _like_ Aster's accent to start cutting through in bits and pieces as you get to know him in this story, but I guess if nobody helps me you'll just have to bite your tongue and deal with my sad attempts at an accent (cue the sunglasses) and probably various miss-uses of what few terms I did manage to gather through Google.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer**: Any and all characters from Rise of the Guardians are copyright of DreamWorks. I created Drake, Doug, Diana and Laura (and possibly anyone else) to act as plot points so they are my creations

**A/N**: So here's Chapter 5! Out just barely in time for me to go on vacation. Applause to my editor for being a wo-MAN and getting this to me within a night and then re-editing the part I had previously wrote last night and getting it to me tonight!

I should also mention this here: I want at least 10 reviews on this story by hopefully Chapter 15ish or even 20. Its up to you guys, my viewers and let's be honest 10 reviews isn't much for 15-20 chapters. My editor is telling me to hold my Chapters hostage till more people review. Take this threat seriously people, that bitch knows where I live.

**Also**-I have no idea about bartending so anything in this chapter that is wrong...I'm sorry. I'm not too into the whole drinking scheme because I'm fairly poor and can't afford bar tabs so I'm stuck drinking at home most of the time in shot format. If you must know my current favorite drinking buddy is Patron Silver, straight. Lime and salt are okay, but I like the taste of Tequila.

* * *

**Chapter 5: Bartending 101**

_2 Months later..._

**Diana**

Diana was a problem solver, most of the time. The rest of the time she caused ample amounts of trouble. The trouble she got into this time, though, would land her right into the public's eye and would essentially force her back to her sire to go into hiding for about twenty years before she could show her face again. Her seventeen years in Los Angeles had been the reason to her sudden move back into Drake's City.

After Drake's snub toward her plea for Thomas Overland as a pet she had taken off from the City, content to wallow in her misery of losing such a promising pet while holding a grudge and decided to busy herself with finding a new play thing. That play thing just so happened to be some poor soul who was loaded with money, was always in the press' eyes, and had a successful business that bought and sold off other businesses. It was everything Diana wanted after three years of mourning the Frost Hunter's passing.

She decided to act even though it was frowned upon for their kind to willingly step into the limelight, mainly because it took twenty years to change their looks and required a long enough time for the dust to settle before they could step out into public again. Diana, though, found herself drawn to the drama she could cause. The fact alone that the man was twenty years her senior, in looks alone, drew him towards her and she lavished in the attention. The man eventually left his wife for her, the divorce proceedings all over the news, tabloids having gone crazy for information regarding the big 'CEO's new SO'. When something else happened that overshadowed their marriage she found herself bored again, which was exactly when she called Drake, content to use some of his more 'useful' contacts he had. Of course she then had to give her word as his fledgling that she would return to Burgess after everything blew over. He'd have to keep her safe within his City until it was safe for her to return to the public, her past would then be erased by slight name changes and a wardrobe change.

She figured it was a good price to pay, especially since she had only really wanted the man for his money in all honesty. The fact that he had the attention of the press was just an added benefit that made it fun and brought back some life to her droll one. When the attention died down she decided to strike out one last time to ensure she made front pages of magazines again and decided to re-live her brothel days by poisoning the fool in his sleep. Of course her asking Drake for help had essentially ensured that not only was one of her late husband's servants set up, a bottle of arsenic hidden inside a bottle of eye drops, but it ensured that after she was cleared of the initial suspicion she got _all_ of his money, shares and possessions thanks to Drake's well paid lawyers. It was lucky that her husband's head Butler, who had wanted to retire with full benefits only to find out as soon as he retired he wasn't going to get them, just so happened to have been spotted angrily shouting about this to one of the maids who came forward with the information—after being paid a healthy sum under the table.

From there Diana spent the rest of the year filtering from the lime light until another large event overshadowed her husband's death, by then she had had her fill of attention. She packed up, jumped on her husband's private plane that she would later sell to Drake after she arrived in Burgess and unwillingly fulfilled her initial word at returning after Drake had lent her a helping hand. She stepped from the plane with her Hunter, a weak willed man she had managed to entice into her grasp easily enough, towing her baggage behind him and found herself a large mansion to purchase. She checked in with Doug, Drake's puny secretary, and began to gather up people to be used as food. However her Vampire Hunter pet, though rather stupid, was very well informed about the insides of Burgess. From him she found out that Hunters were just waiting on the sidelines of the City, searching for a weakness to strike at. The most shocking bit of information he told her, though, was that there was an Overland Hunter still alive in Burgess. Diana's heart had stuttered for the first time in seventeen years. One of the Overland 'Frost' Hunters had survived…but how? She had licked her lips hoping to own the last surviving member as another of her pets.

Within two months she was finally settled in after her move, her Hunter being a good little pet and supplying her with information on the City while he searched for good spots for Diana to visit. It turned out Manny's Moonlight, run by those annoying 'Guardians' that still apparently lived within the City, were making fairly good revenue and collecting crowds from the _entire_ spectrum of Supernatural beings that walked amongst those idiotic Humans. When asked what their Human count was her Hunter informed her that the main floor was the place to be, most of the VIP section only held about ten percent of the Human population that visited the club while the rest were Supernatural beings. However on the main floor, ninety percent were Human and only ten percent were Supernaturals. She wasn't exactly impressed with those numbers, but figured they earned her a night to visit the place.

She did so on a Friday night, an especially busy night, and was grudgingly let in by North. She sashayed her way into the club, staying within the main bar room for awhile to incessantly bother Aster—who wasn't looking too good these days—and eventually made her way to the VIP section after Aster snapped at her with that thick Australian accent he sported when he got especially pist. She _loved_ it when he snapped at her like that, almost relished in that clipped spitting tone. He always had been _such_ a handsomely gorgeous man with both his Beauty marks and those lacing tattoos.

She was let down when she saw the occupants of the VIP room after being, once again unwillingly, served a cosmopolitan by Tooth with extra 'Red'. With a dejected sigh she stood and moved back to the main room, harmlessly flirting with the men there while she waited to see if there was anything new to Manny's.

She was bored within the end of the night and once again looped up into the VIP area to nab a table and stared towards Aster as he worked his bar. She tilted her head, curious as to why he was looking especially ragged these days.

He wasn't bad looking, opposite of that, even as ragged as he looked these days he still had that handsome, rough and tumble, look about him. He had a triangular shaped face with a broad jaw, the jaw dusted with what looked like a day's old five o'clock shadow on it. His hair was still that strange grayish/blue hue, but was cut shorter and more in an imitation of a Mohawk—the sides of his hair cut short but not shaved. His eyebrows were thick but groomed, sitting over some of the most gorgeous green eyes Diana had ever seen in her existence—but then again that's what Beauty Marks were for Vampires: genetics that were inherently eye catching in their beauty, the fact that his tattoos stayed as well when he turned just added to his allure. She noted how those eyes seemed to have a hint of a glow to them, radiating a very dim light from the irises that made the green eyes, that looked similar to green grass in the Spring sun in _every _light, brighten in a way that not even contacts could really imitate. His eyes sat over hollowed cheeks, his lips appearing slightly chapped and if she wasn't mistaken she could've sworn she saw just a hint of sharper and longer than normal canine teeth.

He looked…well emaciated, despite his physic that would forever stay toned and healthy looking.

She watched as North came in from the front, his eyes roving as he began his initial scouring of the dance floors before he looked over at Aster with a worried gaze. He plowed through the main room's crowd without so much as a second glance, and motioned towards the VIP section when he reached Aster, a gentle hand on his shoulder. She noted how relieved Aster looked when North pushed him out from behind his bar and he sulked his way across his area into the VIP section and dipped off into the back where she presumed the Kitchen area was if the clanging of pots and pans was anything to go by. Curious, she stood, following Aster into the back when Tooth and North were both distracted by customers.

"Ah don't bloody know what's wrong with me." Aster stated, his voice strained. "Ah'm standin' round out there like a drongo, desperately trying to focus on what people are ordering and all Ah can hear is their bloody pulses!"

Diana edged around the corner, looking at Aster as he sat along the half-wall of the kitchen with an African American guy standing above him and peering over the edge of the food counter separating them. She watched the guy shrug his shoulders.

"Maybe you _should_ go see Tooth's Doc friend, Aster." The guy replied with an authority that told her he had served in the military before—that and the dog tags around his neck. "It can't hurt, can it?"

Aster shuddered, opening those eyes and revealing how out of control his hunger actually was his eyes, glowing green orbs by this point, looking to the man above him. "Ah hate Doc's, mate."

The guy shrugged, glancing over his shoulder as something beeped in the kitchen behind him. "It always makes me laugh how your Aussie accent thickens out every time you're agitated, or nervous." Claude waved his spatula at Aster from above him. "Listen, Tooth'll make the entire experience less than stressful and if the Doc finds a solution then you won't have to panic about wanting to eat all of our patrons."

Diana's brows rose at this. Had Aster savagely killed someone before in a fit of hunger driven thirst? Personally she herself didn't know, but color her intrigued. She watched Aster, a familiar want growing in her center as she marveled at how beautiful he was. They'd met countless times before, of course, but she seemed especially enthralled with him when he was in this state.

Aster set his head back against the wall and tilted it up, seeming to stretch his neck. He winced, flashing those fully extended sharp canine teeth in his mouth as he absently rubbed the no doubt burning sensation his thirst was causing in his throat.

"Ah still don't like the idea." He grumped.

"Aster, you are one of the most _nervous_, _stubborn_ and _asshole-ish_ men I think I have ever had the pleasure of knowing." The cook snickered when Aster growled at him from his side of the wall. "But you really need to stop panicking about _everything_. Especially when it comes to Jack. You're a good guy, Aster, Vampire or not."

Diana blinked, realizing in those moments that Aster wasn't nearly as fast as he _should _have been—in fact he was sluggish; she noted this and stored it away for later. She shouldn't have been able to see him shoot up to a standing position; it was his gift to be abnormally fast for such a young Vampire, after all. Diana grinned when Aster looked as if his hackles were up like some mangy Werewolf.

"Don't bring up Jack." He snapped, baring his teeth towards the _very_ Human cook who obviously knew about them. "He's none of anybody's bloody business."

"Oh please Aster. You've been eyeballin' that boy just as much as he's been eyeballin' you." The guy said with a shrug. "I ain't even gay and _I _can tell you that boy is interested."

"Drop. It." Aster growled. "He's a dumb galah who will be out of our lives as soon as we don't need him anymore."

"Oh, that's harsh." The cook turned, smirking. "You know, Monty said the same thing about me when he tried his hand at running that Roller skating rink? 'He'll be a onetime hire—nothing more.' Yet here I am, five years later, still working with you sons-a-bitches when you need extra hands and I need an extra job."

Aster snorted, his eyes dimming while he messaged his jaw to get his fangs to slowly retract before he began to rub his temples. "Ah'm tellin' ya, Claude, this bloody job's gonna get me killed."

"Well walking around with glittering goddamn green eyes and a hint of a tan to your skin—not to mention your girly hair color and noticeable body long tattoos—yea, you may very well end up staked and baked by Hunters." Claude set a basket of bar-related food onto the counter between them. "But, I wouldn't count on it just yet. There ain't been Hunters in the City for _years_; you and I both know that."

Aster continued to rub his head. "Ah'm talking about killing someone, Claude. Ah've got one last strike before Sandy puts me in my final grave."

Diana sucked in a sharp breath with that information. So he's killed two people while in this state? _Well, well, well…_

Claude shrugged. "I know you, Aster, and as asshole-ish, grumpy, angry and stressed as you are, you're not an outright killer—at least against Humans that is. I've heard some stories from North that you're _very_ good at killing Vampers. Course you're never really willing to do that either, are ya? Never were. Go see the Doc, see what she says and then go from there. Alright?"

Diana pursed her lips. She could change that idea, given the right incentives.

She heard Aster sigh as he pointed a finger towards the basket between them, his accent slipping away again. "Yea, I guess mate. Where's this going?"

"Booth four in your section. Where is Jack by the way?" He asked, his voice muffling as he stepped further into the kitchen.

"He's off tonight. He'll be back tomorrow, early, for lessons with me before starting the night." He replied, his tone tense.

"You'll be fine, Aster." Claude assured. "Tough it out, like you Aussies always do."

Diana stepped from the back after making sure Tooth and North were still busy. She took up her old spot, wondering what was causing Aster to fidget like a fledgling that still had no control over their thirst and was thrown into a crowd of people too early. It sounded to her like Aster wasn't feeding properly, but that wouldn't be right. She had seen him drink from bagged and bottled blood before without looking as haggard as this. With a purse to her lips she watched Aster with astute curiosity for the rest of the night, thinking of ways in which she could capture the Guardian she had faced before and lost too.

**Jack**

Jack woke up an hour before his alarm clock went off. He turned it off, debating what he was going to do for the rest of the day until four rolled around when he was set to train with Aster for his bartending lessons. He glanced around, for the first time in a long time not exhaustedly sleepy and for once wide awake, noting a dog staring at him from the doorway. He tilted his head, looking at the Greyhound that was white with rust patches. It was lithe and skinny, wearing a giant cone on its neck.

Laughter erupted from his lips when he saw how sad those brown eyes were on the dog. He pushed himself from the mattress after throwing off the sheets and stepped forward, slowing when the dog backed up a bit. Instead of pushing the tentative creature he turned on his heel and went into his bathroom to brush his teeth and shower. When he returned to his room the dog was missing from the doorway and he closed it to change before emerging wearing his favorite blue hoodie with a simple black shirt underneath it and on his legs were his best pair of worn in jeans. He met Sophie and Jamie downstairs, surprised to see them up and about already. They dragged him from the kitchen after he had piled food onto a plate and they hunkered down on the couch for some Saturday morning cartoons and TV.

Jack finished the last of Sophie's cinnamon pancakes and stood up, gathering the dishes from the siblings before doing them in the kitchen with the dog diligently watching him. He nabbed a piece of bacon from the counter and chucked it to the dog, smiling when she caught it mid air. He stored the leftover bacon and eggs in a container and set it aside before Sophie and Jamie came barreling into the room together laughing and carrying on.

"Jack, you like Abby?" Jamie asked, kneeling down and giving the dog a head rub.

"Abby?" Jack asked, glancing at the dog. "You named her Abby?"

"Mom named her Abby." Sophie corrected with a laugh, kneeling down and rubbing the dog's chest as well.

The dog laid down, rolling over onto its back even with that cone on her head, and exposed her belly. Jack looked at the line of stitching on the dog's belly and shrugged.

"You just adopt her?" He asked as he finished doing the dishes.

"Yep!" Sophie giggled when the dog's leg twitched. "Mom put down money so fast on her nobody had the chance to even look at her."

Jack snorted. "She's wanted a Greyhound for awhile I guess."

Jamie nodded, standing and checking his watch. "I gotta get to work. See you tonight, Jack?"

Jack nodded. "Yea. I'm working the VIP section though so you might have to ask North to let you back there."

Sophie stood with a sigh. "I guess I better get to work too."

Jack waved them goodbye, left once again with the dog he'd just met that morning. He walked up to his room, digging out some of his books for College with the intention of studying, but he found focusing just wasn't going to happen today. Instead he spaced out, thinking about Manny's and how eerie the place had gotten over the past two months.

He _always_ felt like he was being watched, and it wasn't just by Aster—the one person he didn't mind being watched by. No, it had been a growing sensation over the past two months that was beginning to set his hairs on edge. Something just _wasn't_ right. He felt, oddly, like he was prey walking among predators. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, staring out over the growing winter cold and trying to figure out why he was getting a headache.

He dragged out a piece of paper, absently writing the things he had noticed since he started working at Manny's.

One of the first things that had really stuck out to him was the patrons within the VIP section. Each of them was odd in their own way, and Jack couldn't put his finger on it. What he did notice is that each patron had a certain 'air' about them that made them seem above all the other patrons that stood below in Aster's area. Of course there were a few patrons in Aster's section that sent the hair on the back of Jack's neck on end, but it wasn't nearly as bad as it was in the VIP section.

He had spent the last few weeks watching these particular individuals, and to be honest it was driving him a little nuts having to figure out why these people were beginning to make him feel oddly uncomfortable. He could honestly describe the feeling as prey being watched by a predator, even if none of these people seemed to even glance his direction most of the time. He ogled them pretty openly, yet all of them seemed to either ignore it or simply didn't care. He leaned back in his desk chair, twisting it back and forth with his legs as he pondered these beings.

Each of them seemed, oddly, older than they appeared. They each had a certain strength, or better yet, an ever pulsing force of power that could only be gained with age. Some of the men held onto manners that were frequently seen in either books or movies that focused on certain time periods. The women also seemed to share some of these ideals, while other women seemed to openly reject these old manners. He remembered the one guy who looked no older than twenty one, yet he seemed to carry himself in a way that made him appear centuries older than his looks. He then remembered the woman he had stared at shortly after that. She sat so straight and held herself in such a way that made her look as if she'd been ripped from a Victorian painting and slapped in modern clothes.

He also noted a few patrons were particularly pale in the lights of the club, not _all _of them of course, but a good chunk of them were pale. It brought on Jack's next thing on his list: those freaky eyes each patron had. Some of them had eyes that seemed to emit their own light, amplifying the color within the irises to the point where Jack just _knew _they weren't black light reflective contacts anymore. Then there were a few other patrons, their eye colors shifting from brown to a bright gold or, the one that made him actually take a breathing break from panic, watching a girl's pupils lengthen and take on a very cat-like look to them while her irises flushed to an orange with green. He shuddered remembering that.

Jack scratched the back of his head as he took all of these little things he'd been noticing down. He then went on to thinking about when he was alone with his fellow co-workers before the club opened. There had been countless times he walked in on glasses that had been lazily rinsed out leaving behind a reddish looking, watered down, liquid in the bottom. Then there was how oddly quiet North, Sandy, Tooth, Aster and Monty were when it came to him and Claude. He and Claude both made so much noise in the club when they did things it almost made Jack feel self conscious. The others though…they were practically mutes when it came to doing things.

Like walking. He shuddered again. He'd caught Sandy doing this particular freaky deed where he just walked, as if his feet weren't even touching the ground, not even the sound of scuffing under his feet as they met the wooden floor. It reminded Jack of Sandy 'floating' across the surface instead of walking, even if the guy was actually making the movements. Then there was North, who when he threw his head back to laugh always flashed his teeth, the canines a little sharper than normal. He twirled the desk chair he sat in, tapping the eraser of his pencil on the edge of the armrest as he thought of Tooth.

She was strange, that much was for sure. She loved fun, wore gowns and clothing that was reminiscent of the 60s' and then there was how graceful she was—and quick. He swore she had the reflexes and energy of a Hummingbird hopped up on too much nectar. Oh and the amount of energy she expelled did _horrible _things to him, almost like it rubbed off on him. He hadn't spent an entire twenty four hours awake for a good ten years until he had decided to spend a day out with Tooth. Then there was the second bouncer/doorman named Monty who just plain creeped him out. The guy was a hulk, big and muscular with bright blonde hair and blue eyes, and a sneer that could curdle dairy.

Jack stopped, his mind halting on Aster. The oddest of the bunch, without a doubt, but yet the one that stuck out in more ways than one. Aside from his freakishly good looks he was an asshole with a heart of gold, a man unafraid of telling things to your face and damning the consequences of doing so, but at the same time he always seemed so on edge. He may have an infatuation with rabbits, the information kindly given to him by North so he could watch Jack come up with as _many_ ways to pester Aster as possible with, but the guy honestly mimicked the creatures when it came to their responses to things these days. When he had first arrived Aster was fairly tough, willing to throw out a punch and take one should he need too, but as time wore on Jack had noticed Aster's changing—no faltering—state. Aster's once hungry gaze that always lingered on him turned predatory and switched from focusing purely on Jack to the beings that surrounded his bar. He always looked as if he was seconds from jumping the bar and pouncing on the first person he saw.

He winced, his headache turning into a migraine as he rolled these thoughts over in his mind. He stood, heading down the stairs to grab some Aspirin from the medicine cabinet. He glanced up at the clock in the kitchen pulled open the medicine cabinet and debated how long it would take to get to Manny's. He had a few other things he needed to explore before he jumped to an odd, albeit insane, conclusion.

He tapped out two pills onto his palm and tucked the bottle back, nabbing a glass of water to take the pills with. He leaned on the counter after swallowing down the pills and decided to finish the rest of the glass before he went upstairs to change for work.

He needed to figure out what that 'Red' ingredient was in Tooth's bar. When he had asked about it all he had got from the lot of them was a condescending look associated with a smile like he was a child asking where babies came from. He _knew _what it was…at least he thinks he knows what it is. He washed the glass, turning the soap filled glass he held and remembering when he really had stopped to look at the glasses he was collecting.

Many of them had that reddish residual liquid at the bottom of the glasses. It was a deep red, but due to the liquid that had been in the glass it looked a little more watery than what he felt it should look like. Then there was the smell—metallic, almost like the coppery taste of a penny. He finished rinsing out his glass and wondered if what his conclusion was drawing him to was even possible.

He would find out today what the 'Red' ingredient was, he decided, as he rushed up to the room and changed. He nabbed his wallet and the set of keys Sandy had given him since he kept showing up early or late due to bus schedules and made his way to Manny's with one thing on his mind: get into Tooth's bar and find that 'Red' ingredient.

He soon found himself slipping inside of the club using his key and the employee entrance that was in a hallway that held the VIP bathrooms and a single storage room. He quietly walked across the VIP section's dance floor and knelt down behind Tooth's bar. He'd seen where she pulled the liquid in a crystalline decanter from countless times, but in the dark of the club it just seemed like a chocolate colored liquid. He knelt, his eyes searching intently before he heard the shifting of air and then felt cold on his palm when he ran it across the edge of the drawer in question. He pulled the drawer open a few centimeters before he had to reach a finger in and literally flip some lock out of place before he found the crystalline decanter in a self refrigerated spot of Tooth's bar. He pulled the decanter out, tilting it and staring at the obviously dark red liquid that was thick within the confines of the crystal decanter, and then popped the lid and took a whiff. He grimaced, the metallic smell sparking a memory in his mind for a moment that had his heart racing in familiar fear before it was gone in a flash, leaving him baffled as to what the memory had been. He took in a sharp inhale after shaking it off, tilting the decanter and tapping the edge of his finger into the liquid. He rubbed his index and thumb finger together, noticing the sticky liquid—_holy shit_. Jack gasped, realizing what the liquid was but still not believing it. It…it was impossible, right?

He shook his head in mock disbelief before he got the will to touch the edge of the liquid to his tongue and then promptly gag. It **was** fucking _blood_. He popped the lid back onto the decanter and sat frozen for a moment before he heard voices from below the VIP section where he knew four of his co-workers lived. Jack had hastily put the decanter away, closing the shelf as his pulse pounded harshly in his throat and stood to bolt out from the back of Tooth's bar. He edged the corner of the VIP section and acting as if he had just walked in, waltzing out as Aster walked out onto the VIP area.

"Hey Aster!" Jack cheered happily, pushing _all_ of his suspicions to the back of his mind and slapping his cheerful self into place. "Ready to practice some bartending?!"

**Aster**

Aster was feeling especially drained today, there was no getting around that fact. He groaned and hunched over shortly after he had stood up from his bed in his room. Man, he was dying for some fresh from the vein blood, but he knew he had to keep to his 'vegan' diet. He hunched over yet again as another painful spasm shook his core. He ground his teeth and resisted the urge to punch the wall in order to distract himself from the encompassing thirst. He recovered—eventually—and then went over to his small fridge and pried out one of the bottles that held blood. As soon as he twisted the lid off of the bottle his mind turned hazy with thirst. He smelled it, which was difficult to avoid seeing as their kind was the embodiment of the name 'blood hounds'; his thirst had literally been kicking his ass, and the bottle didn't help soon as he drained it.

He sucked in a sharp breath, yanking out another with a frustrated growl and draining it followed by another two after that to see if that would appease anything. It didn't.

He straightened from his crouch in front of his miniature fridge and threw the bottles into the small sink at the kitchenette in his room with frustrated movements. His hands gripped the edge of the sink as he angrily glared at the empty bottles of blood while his fingers dug into the counter, the wood from the edges giving way with a resounding chorus of sharp snaps from the pressure of his grip before he released his hold on the edge. He turned, rubbing his temples and giving his entire body a shake as he forced himself to exhale in long, drawn out, breaths.

With this he found a moment of clarity and he went over to his closet, pulling the yoga mat out and taking a starting stance on it after laying it out before beginning a brisk warm up. He _had _to clear his mind before he worked with Jack today, otherwise it would be another Sydney Opera House debacle—or worse yet the mess he had created at Woodstock when he'd first met Tooth. Unwillingly his mind brought up the horror filled faces of the two women he had attacked. The first was a gorgeous auburn haired beaut with big green eyes, the second was a dirty blonde haired girl barely out from under her parent's thumb in a tie dyed top and high waist flaring jeans. He'd killed them both while in this same desperate state, and if it happened again Sandy was going to have to stake him and then take his head in order to protect innocents. Hell he didn't know why Sandy gave him three chances as it was.

However, he needed to keep his mind off his thirst and he would not only teach Jack today but he would work tonight as well. Sure, it would be hard to restrain himself and yea he'd be putting people at risk, but he really needed something to take his mind off his body's struggles. He was running fairly low on the will power that kept him in check a majority of the time and he figured an engrossment back into the people he wanted to technically keep safe from his thirst was just the wakeup call he needed to ensure his sobriety.

At least that was what he hoped.

Aster settled himself into his yoga routine, ensuring each movement was accompanied by a breath he didn't need and relaxed his mind for the first time in what felt like weeks. When he finished his yoga routine for a warm up he settled into the soothing movements associated with Tai Chi. By the time he finished with that he did a few more calming Yoga stances before he was ready to prepare for Jack's lesson and work. He showered for the sake of refreshment, shaved, and made sure to drink a few extra bottles of blood again before he brushed his teeth. He walked out of his room with a bare chest and stepped out onto the VIP floor holding his shirt for the night when he heard it.

"Hey Aster!" Jack cheered happily, grating on _all _of Aster's already short nerves. He looked Jack up and down, angry at how chipper the fucker could be while he was sitting here suffering. He shook his head roughly, pushing that thought away and giving a ghost of a smile to Jack when he yelled, "Ready to practice some bartending?!"

"Come on, get ta my bar." Aster stated, taking in a shuddering breath and lifting his arms up over his head as he looped his hands through the sleeves and tugged the shirt down. He noted Jack gaping towards him with a stupid glint to his eyes that he wasn't going to address with a ten foot pole. "Oi, Jackie, ya dill let's go!"

Jack jumped when he snapped at him and then scurried over to his bar. Aster grabbed a seat in front of Jack, content to keep his ass planted in that spot till he couldn't stand Jack's failures any longer. It probably wouldn't be long if the last few weeks of lessons were anything to go by.

Jack turned, looking over Aster's bar and then turning back with a sharp nod. "Hit me with your best shot."

"Cosmopolitan." He stated, watching Jack whip around and gather _most _of the right ingredients. Aster let out a groan when Jack finished the drink and set it in front of him. "Ya forgot the lime ya dill."

Jack gasped, turning in a sharp circle and tossing a lime slice into the martini glass. The beverage splashed onto the bar's counter and onto Aster's arms. He stared at the drink for a moment, willing his patience, but it was to no avail.

"Jack yer…yer…" He clasped his hands in front of his face and just shook his head, his accent thickening. "Ah don't have the strength to teach someone as dense as ya."

Jack huffed. "Well what the hell did you mean by lime?"

Aster, forgetting he wasn't supposed to be fast, jerked and slammed his fist down onto the counter so hard the entire glass toppled over. Jack's eyes widened for a split second as he backed up, sending the tantalizingly sour scent of fear over to him. He turned sharply, soon as he saw that glitter to his eyes in the mirror behind his bar, and took five seconds to compose himself before he turned back around. He stood, grabbing the wet towel from the sink and began to wipe the counter down before setting the martini glass in the sink, all the while ignoring Jack's thumping heartbeat.

"How many times do I have to tell ya, ya don't just _add_ lime slices to things when they call for lime." He bit out angrily. "Its liquid format unless told otherwise. Have ya even bloody bothered to study?!"

"Yes I have!" Jack snapped back, crossing his arms as his scent changed back to that familiar chilly mint scent that seemed to surround Jack. Aster resisted licking his lips and he averted his eyes as he noticed them glitter again. "I just…panicked."

He sighed, hearing the defeat in Jack's voice. He groaned, hating how this kid brought out both his anger and his outright soft side. He nodded, waving a hand.

"Next up is Long Island." He said on a sigh.

Jack grabbed the right ingredients this time. Aster nodded in what he hoped was encouragement after checking his eyes in the mirror to see them back to their bright green selves without the added light behind them. Then Jack added a little bit extra rum, nothing a patron would kill him for, and then set the glass on the counter with a wince of uncertainty.

"Ah…lime or lemon wedge?" He asked, genuinely sounding lost.

"For me? Lime." Aster stated, motioning towards the limes that still had yet to be cut for the night but were lined up and ready for when the club opened. "For the patron ya might want to ask what they like better, lime or lemon. That's just me, though."

Aster grabbed the drink and tasted it, wrinkling his nose a little when the rum kicked through most of the taste. "Ya added a bit too much rum, mate, but it's not entirely bad." Jack beamed, making him smile in response. "Alright, next up is…Tequila Sunrise."

Jack nodded. He grabbed up one of the glasses from the upper bar area and then fumbled, getting too far ahead of his actions. Aster watched the glass fall, a victim to gravity like many other glasses that had faced Jack's less than dexterous hands, and then shatter at his feet. He watched Jack turn, his brown eyes wide with an innocent smile on his face. He sighed, dropping his head for a moment and then leaning over the bar top to watch Jack begin to pick up the broken glass with his hands.

As Aster loomed there he watched the flush rise from below Jack's collar and filter to his face. He heard Jack's pulse pick up from embarrassment, his eyes darting to the throbbing vein in Jack's throat as it pulsed in a hypnotic rhythm. He swallowed, his mouth watering and the only thing snapping him from jumping the bar was his reflection in the mirror when he made an attempt to move to Jack. He froze, his green eyes emitting their own light like two glittering orbs and the tips of his sharp canines hedging against his lower lip. He heard Jack begin to move and he quickly ducked, pressing his back against the paneling of the bar.

"Uh…Aster?" Jack asked, sounding genuinely confused.

"Ah'm down here; let me know when yer ready ta begin again." He stated, raising a hand in the air above the edge of the bar's counter while he attempted to press his fangs back into their spots in his gums with both thumbs. His head pounded as he did so and then when they finally retracted back into his gums, imitating sharper than normal canine teeth, he feverently rubbed his eyes, doing his damndest to ignore any and all sounds Jack's heart was emitting. "Ya got it cleaned up yet?"

"For now? Good enough." Jack stated.

Aster peered over the edge of the corner and checked himself in the mirror before he stood from his spot. He hunched suddenly when a pang of thirst shot through him and he ground his teeth, ignoring Jack's question on if he was alright or not before answering the second repeated question that held a little more worry to its tone.

"Fine, Jacky." Aster wheezed out. "Just…make a Screwdriver, the Tequila Sunrise and then a Scotch and soda with Jack."

Jack nodded, looking worriedly towards him. He gave a weak, closed mouth, smile and slumped onto the counter. If this kept up he'd have to bail on Jack and pry Tooth from her fucking room. He moved his left hand to his stomach and clenched it in his shirt as a ripple of thirst shot through him again, jumping when Jack's warm hand touched his forearm. Jack's hand shot back and he warily looked at Aster. He noted that glittering gaze again in the mirror before he stood.

"I'm getting Tooth." He stated a little breathlessly. "Ah…Ah uh…think Ah might be sick. Aah—food poison…"

Jack frowned, getting ready to reach for something before knocking another glass into the sink followed by the sharp crack of another glass being sent to the glass factory in the sky. Aster chuckled lightly at the mortified look Jack had as he began to dig out the glass. Then he jerked his hand back with a sharp gasp, cradling his finger in his hand.

"Ouch I cut myself." Jack murmured, exposing the bleeding digit.

Aster froze. He lifted his nose, scenting that delicious smell emanating itself from Jack's finger. He caught his eyes lighting and turned on his heel, intent to avoid this entire goddamn situation. He darted forward at a fairly slow pace, making the stairs in a record time and then pounding on Tooth's door, leaning on the frame while Jack called after him with hurried footsteps. He heard Tooth gasp from inside her room from her door rattling on its hinges and then she opened the door, her eyes wide.

"Aster…what's happened?!" He noted the panic her voice held after she had looked him over.

"He cut himself." He croaked around the thirst that was gripping his throat. "The dill went and cut himself and Ah can't—Tooth…fuck he smells so good."

She nodded, understanding and cupped his jaw. "I'll train him today; you go into your room."

He gently lifted his hand and held her hand with his, closing his eyes in relief. "Ya've got ta lock me in Tooth."

He heard her whimper. "Alright, alright. Just relax Aster, breathe. Remember we _like _Jack, we don't want to eat him."

He opened his eyes, baring his teeth in a growl that stated otherwise. He opened his mouth running his tongue over his fangs as he turned his head towards the staircase Jack's feet were currently stepping down at a slow, tentative, pace. He was about to bolt to the staircase until he felt North's arm wrap around his neck and under his left arm, hauling him down the hallway to the spare room. He was tossed into the room that held no windows, rolling in a quick recovery and slamming into the thick metal door with enough force to knock a car over just as it was closed. The door, however, didn't budge.

He let out a whimpering howl, slumping against the metal door as he heard the bolt lock. He cried in pain as the thirst rocked his system, tearing at his insides piece by piece. He curled up into a fetal position, tears running down his cheeks as he lost hope.

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Also I apologize for Aster if his accent is bad. I'm bad at accents and I don't necessarily feel bad for not typing them right because I want you guys to know what the characters are saying :] Anyways, off to vacation! I hope to see views and reviews from you peeps.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer**: Any and all characters from Rise of the Guardians are copyright of DreamWorks. I created Drake, Doug, Diana and Laura (and possibly anyone else) to act as plot points so they are my creations.

**A/N**: I was told to do this by my editor (I'm sorry I'm new at this and an idiot), sorry for the delay!

To **WinterWolf** (my first reviewer): Thank you so much for your very first review! I can't tell you how much you kicked my pants into continuing!

To **LoneArticWolf09** (GO READ HER STUFF GUYS ITS AMAZEBALLZ): Honey...you are a constant inspiration and I love our little chats! Thanks to you as well for the review!

Finally to **Kayla** (I'm assuming you're a guest?): If I could I would sploosh on you. Your review has spurred me and my editor to look at and rethink a few plot points (we literally chatted from 10pm-3am last night instead of me posting this chapter lol). THANK YOU! Your review was amazing and something I honestly took to heart. Really, I can't thank you enough for it! More reviews like this are very much wanted (and needed because I'm an idiot).

Now, onto my notes: Chapter 7 is going to be delayed because I'm going to rewrite it and adjust it to my new, improved, plot! As for how fast I work on it? Well that's up to you, the reviewers! My goal? 2-3 reviews within (hopefully) a week of posting this chapter (6). If I don't get any hints towards a review then, well, I guess I go play Guild Wars 2 and League of Legends till I get my inspiration to write again. This story is now going on 6 rewrites, 3 of which were re-plots now. Also Romance? Now my forte, and it took my editor slapping me in the face with a brick and saying, 'Hey dingus you missed an opportunity here!' So...sorry guys, Chapter 7 I'm thinking will have some Bunny (Aster) and Jack fluff (I guess?) but you're going to have to wait...unless I get 2-3 reviews, then I might be persuaded to push it out faster. Me? Cruel? Yep, haha (I hope to fark you laugh at that). Also sorry for the time skips and any misused Australian slang (Nobody PMed me so ya gotta deal, though I kinda like my accent haha).

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**Chapter 6**: Digging up of Memories Past

_5 Months later..._

**Drake**

Drake knew the grapevine was muttering about a Hunter that had survived his witch hunt seventeen years ago and if the rumors kept up, the damage to his status would be irreparable. There _was_ no coming back from something that damaging, which was exactly why Drake was so irritated with Pitch. He knew how much of a ticking time bomb that Overland kid was, and he knew Pitch didn't see him as a threat. Then again, Drake didn't think Pitch remembered how dangerous their lives had been as they gallivanted around Europe in the Middle Ages.

No…maybe Pitch didn't remember all that time they spent ducking and dodging Hunters, in mass quantities, as they made their way from the Sahara desert that bordered Egypt into Saudi Arabia, up through to Russia, crossing back to eventually Spain and from there ending their journey in England, all the while dodging and ducking the various Hunters of the time.

This day and age was so much more lenient towards their kind, mainly in the sense that they were things of fairytales, Supernatural beings that didn't exist. Only a few mortals knew about them, and those who did sat in high places within the Government and made damn sure their presence, along with other Supernaturals, was kept completely and totally silent. On the opposite side of that spectrum, the so called 'innocent' men and women that knew about them were either willing or unwilling donors who had an unfortunate meeting with one of them or were seconds from dying within their grasp. The only time there had ever been a possible leak was during the Red Scare, and the Government twisted that one rather nicely and pointed the fingers towards other more 'scary' individuals of the time.

Drake chuckled. Mortals…so gullible. So easy to pacify if you directed their eyes to the right objects and made just the right hand gestures and kept that panicked and commanding tone of voice. Hell, they still thought Sasquatch was real and that was nothing more than a Werebear that couldn't shift back into his purely Human form thanks to a wonderful little curse a Wiccan put on him. He was able to shift back and forth these days at will, the Shifter community stepping their own boot down to snuff out that troublesome flame, but that didn't stop all the Shifter community from taking a deep breath and holding it as they waited for the public and Hunters to turn their eyes towards them.

That's the way it went. When even the smallest of things was noticed it felt as if Hunters in particular were there in the blink of an eye with their now dangerous weapons and tools, the only mortals that _didn't _accept what the news told them and _refused _to back down until they were content that their data proved nothing Supernatural had happened. Drake raised his hand and picked at his nail. Hunters…scum of the Earth if you asked him. Annoying flies that just kept buzzing back even when you swatted them down. Jack was a shining example of that.

He glanced up when he heard the door to his office open and Doug stepped in. He stepped aside, letting in Diana. She squealed, making both men wince as the high pitched sound pierced their ears, and dashed over to Drake to sit herself down on his desk right in front of him after pushing his chair back and wedging herself between his legs and his desk.

"Diana, it's been awhile." Drake replied bluntly, his eyes roaming over his desk as Diana managed to singlehandedly scatter every paper on it with nothing more than her ass.

"Well, you _did _steal a pet from me that I wanted." Diana shot back, a sick grin rising on her face as she eyed him. "Anyways, that was…what seventeen years ago? Maybe twenty?"

Drake snorted. It just proved he was right in letting his boot fall on Thomas Overland's head that night before even considering Diana's request to keep the Frost Hunter as a pet. She wasn't fit to keep Human pets, let alone a dangerous one like Thomas. He was often reminded by her of the ditzy blonde who forgot to feed her goldfish. However she'd been…well irate wasn't even the right term for the amount of anger Diana had openly showed towards Drake that night when he'd killed Thomas. She'd outright disappeared after giving him an ear full of her disgust with Drake's decision and negligence of her request. His eyes darted to the woman in question.

She now sported blonde hair, along with those pretty honey brown eyes of hers. They were accompanied by plain facial features, but she had a body to make up for it, one that would make a normal man fall to his knees. Big breasts, a slim waist and that gorgeous arch to her back that lead to a fairly prominent and perky ass that looked good in just about everything. She was a weapon, and she knew it. She also knew she could get away, literally, with murder when she dealt with Drake. Hell, she just did earlier in the year. He'd chosen her for that specific reason all those years ago. She wasn't smart, but she was damn efficient.

"Say…the past few months have you been dropping by Manny's?" Drake asked curiously.

Diana cocked her head to the side, her brows rising on her forehead. "Why, oh Drakey-poo, would you care about that?"

He shrugged, wondering if this conversation was going to go anywhere. Soon as she started in with that baby-talking nonsense she was usually already gone when it came to mental capacity. Killer she was; genius…not so much.

"I'm just asking out of curiosity." He stated simply.

"Hm…only once recently when I first got into town. I wasn't too impressed. When they first opened I dropped in fairly frequently. If I remember right it was okay back when we didn't have the option of bottled or bagged blood back then. Now…it's not as much fun as I expected it to be." Diana leaned back, running her tongue over her teeth as her fangs lengthened. "Though I did notice that recently they added a large list of rules for our kind in particular. Their first, no biting on the premises, is an immediate turn off to anything that even hopes to garner my interest."

Drake snorted. "Well how about we go and visit them sometime this week? I need to do some surveillance since Pitch is now going on five months without so much as an errant twitch of interest in one of the beings that works in Manny's."

"Really?" Diana bounced from the desk. "Only _one _of them has piqued your interest? I'd have thought that by now you'd have already acid washed or made that entire joint explode in a 'gas leak'." Diana had lifted her hands to do air quotes. "I mean seriously, Drake if they're that much of a problem why don't you just kill them all?"

Drake chuckled. "I _want _too. But…there's certain perks to having them in town. They bring in business, as Pitch stated, and the longer I keep slowly stepping on their toes the harder it's going to be for them to survive, but all the while we get business. When it gets too hard for them to survive they'll have no choice then to either move out of town or come to me on their hands and knees. I'm also trying to nail down who their blood supplier is at the moment so that I can have a 'word' with that individual about why that particular service they provide might be considered a…troublesome endeavor for them to continue."

Diana snickered. "If you've got even a hint of a location I can shake them out in a night."

Drake chuckled. "From what we know it's the Hospital, more importantly the morgue."

Diana nodded, tapping her chin and pursing her lips. "So, let's talk price for this service."

Drake snorted. Of course she wanted money. Diana was, in a way, a Vampire Mercenary. If you paid her a pretty penny she'd do just about anything. She drew the line at killing anyone she deemed worthy of her attentions, which was why Drake had never been able to talk her into killing Thomas Overland. She'd been attached to the Hunter, enjoying how he actively hunted her down every time they met and relished in the cat and mouse game she played. Hell, she'd managed to almost drain him until his wife had blown Diana's stomach out with a shotgun after she had kicked Diana from his being.

"I'll tell you what. I'll let you go shopping and use my credit card." Drake told her, earning another ear piercing squeal that made him wince. "Diana!" He shouted, slamming his fist on the desk as he stood up making it creak from the strength and force behind it, as he stood up. "You only get it if you nail to the wall whoever is selling those Guardians their blood."

"Done!" Diana slipped under his arm and pranced across the room towards the door. "Have your card ready by tomorrow afternoon!"

Drake watched her pause and his own eyes looked towards Doug who rolled his eyes as Diana turned in the door and leaned against it. Doug didn't particularly like Diana, and she knew that fact. So he brushed past her and stopped at the edge of Drake's desk.

"Sir, I have some interesting information you might be privy to know about today." Doug stated.

"Go on." He replied, watching Diana as he adjusted the papers on his desk so that they didn't sit in their messy state when he left in an hour to go to bed.

"It turns out Jack managed to get the Guardians to go to that Carnival in town today." Doug glanced at the sun as it began to rise. "May I suggest we take a day and follow them?"

Drake felt his eyes brighten, his thoughts of sleeping slipping past. "Why, Doug that is an ingenious idea."

Diana smirked as well, leaving his office with a mischievous look on her face.

**Aster**

He rubbed his face, knowing today was going to be especially rough on him. Aster slumped into the back seat of Tooth's car and thought about this morning after they had closed Manny's and Aster had offered Jack an early bartending lesson since he was especially hyper for some reason when he got off work. Jack had, singlehandedly, made sure Aster's bar didn't have any unbroken glasses left by the end of his bartending lesson and then managed to talk them into going to the Carnival that was in town when 10am rolled around. It had happened when Aster had been slumped forward onto his bar, banging his forehead repeatedly against its surface that Jack chose to bring this particular topic up. Aster had made the mistake of dropping his guard, allowing for Jack's mischievous and troublesome nature to come to the forefront in the way of an invitation to the Carnival, and he was going to pay for that little slip up. They were going to the Carnival because Jack had fucked up another drink recipe for the tenth time that morning and caused Aster to physically give up for a split second.

"Come on!" He had pleaded with them shortly after picking up yet another shard of glass from the floor that morning. "Jamie got these tickets and intended to take Sophie and me, but he's got some giant case he's working on and now Sophie is busy with school during the day! Please, you're the only people I can think of that I can even remotely call friends outside of Jamie and Sophie."

Aster had outright snapped a 'No' while Tooth and North both barked a 'Yes!'. Sandy, on the other hand, wanted to stay at Manny's to finish up his books…and total up the glasses he needed to purchase thanks to Jack. The reason Sandy wanted to stay behind also had to do with what he needed to order, which was more blood, and he had to keep it hidden from Jack. They were running into trouble these days when it came to suppliers, along with the shocking realization (thanks to Tooth's Doctor friend) that Aster had some genetic defect that made it so he had to ingest Human blood fresh from the vein once a month or he would die from malnutrition. It had been a life altering discovery that both solved Aster's problem when it came to his constant feeling of being 'hungry' and also made them have to adjust their stance on keeping mortals safe. Aster had wanted to deck North when he had dubbed him as a 'clause'.

He sighed out and put his sunglasses on as Tooth drove towards Jack's home. He could already feel that sun beating down on him and he could _really _feel how much energy his body was putting into already healing the various spots of exposed skin, which he'd done his best to keep to a minimum. He rubbed his neck. He had already dropped by the Blood House owned by Don; one of Drake's less than favorite fledglings and had fed earlier in the month off of a nice donor named Kitten. But he knew that come the end of the day he'd be worn out and in need of a fresh blood intake. He'd be spending the rest of what little fresh blood he had in his system on healing the sun's damage to his skin.

"Are you going to be okay?" Tooth asked as they parked in front of Jack's home, glancing at him in the rearview mirror.

"Hopefully." Aster muttered. "I really don't want to do this."

"Come, Aster, it will be fun, dah?" North leaned backwards and slapped Aster on the thigh as he got out of the car to knock on Jack's front door.

"Yea, fun for you guys." Aster muttered bitterly. "Ya don't have a genetic defect that fucks up yer digestion of bagged blood. Ya lucky bastards get ta just bring a canister and sip from it when ya need it."

Tooth turned around sharply in her seat and punched his thigh, making him jerk and wince. He rubbed the spot on his thigh profusely and glared towards her. Woman could really punch when she wanted too.

"Aster, be grateful we found out what your problem was." She stated bluntly. "It has solved a lot of your problems and it ensures that you don't kill anyone, _again_, even if they were accidents."

Aster sighed out in defeat. She was right; he was just grumpy because he wanted to be in bed and sleeping rather than in the sunlight getting burned. Damn the timing for this trip. They really had no choice when it came to going with Jack, the tickets expiring the next day and they couldn't go at night without leaving the club closed, nor could they leave their coworker who had turned into a good friend high and dry. He jumped when the car door next to him opened and he heard North and Jack outside:

"Jack, would you like to sit in front?" North had asked, sounding like he was trying to herd Jack that direction.

"No, the back is fine." Jack had replied, darting into the seat next to Aster.

He knew it was coming, yet he did nothing to stop what happened next. Jack's momentum from scrambling into the back seat caused him to lurch forward clumsily, his hand slipping from the edge of the seat so that he slipped, flailed and then sprawled across Aster's lap. He froze in place, his left hand tightening on the armrest as Jack's face sat inches from his crotch. His attention was drawn from this when North's muffled laughter sounded from outside the car, which caused Jack to jerkily right himself with a blush on his cheeks and sending a sheepish smile to North.

"Whoops." Jack chuckled, nudging Aster's side. "Guess I got a little too excited about riding in the back seat with my Bunny-buddy."

He glared at North, at least until he heard what Jack had just said. He wondered if Jack could hear his teeth grinding with irritation because suddenly Jack was leaning forward and chatting with Tooth as North got into the car again.

He sighed as he listened to Jack talk to Tooth, Jack finally buckling his seat belt after Tooth had told him to do it five times in the course of a minute, before she started driving the car. He nodded his head when Jack turned and finally greeted him properly when he was done sending Tooth a barrage of questions. His head nod was stiff, though, thanks to Jack's embarrassing stunt not seconds ago. The klutzy behavior had brought to the surface his thoughts on Jack. He and Jack, for the past five months, had been doing a little dance with one another that left them both puzzled and unsure of what foot they stood on. Aster would bark, rant and rave at Jack and then Jack would return it with just as much fire to his tone as Aster had delivered it in. Those were the bad days, which was usually the days he was teaching Jack how to bartend. The good days…well…those produced interesting results. Thus the uncertainty they both knew sat between them like a giant pink elephant.

Jack chattered away in the car again, specifically with Tooth, Aster grunting every so often when Jack nudged him to get a response. He leaned on his armrest, intent on looking out the window and avoiding any and all contact with Jack for the day. He was floundering when it came to Jack. Part of him was absolutely sucker-punched in love with the dill, the other part wanted to wring the kid's neck because of how aggravating he was. Mainly, he was getting a little tired of Jack's pranks. He had the entire floor to his bar stripped bare of the mats below his feet to keep him from slipping two nights ago and Aster had chosen not to listen to that little voice in the back of his head that warned him something was afoot when he noticed Jack was watching him with a hawk like gaze. He spent so much time watching Jack that his foot stepped and slipped on a strategically placed ice cube and landed flat on his ass in a pile of whipped cream behind his bar.

That wasn't even the worse prank Jack had pulled on him, it was just the more recently annoying one. His timing for these pranks were superb too, Aster wanting to slam the dill's face into the whipped cream behind his counter but having to instead rush back to his room and change. The initial threat of causing Jack bodily harm only halted when he saw the snickering little prick behind his bar on his hands and knees helping already cleaning the mess up before the club had opened. His jaw clenched at the memory of how furious he had been and that fury was only sedated by the fact that Jack had already started cleaning the mess up in the time it took for Aster to change. Hell, Jack even had the courtesy to then ask if he was alright before he started working. He relaxed physically when he remembered the caring tone Jack's voice had to it. He had genuinely wanted to know if he was alright, at least before he started that fucking sniggering again.

Then there had been the countless nights where Jack would grab his water hose and spray him with it, directly over his crotch. He ignored the edge of his lip that tempted to pull upwards into a smile as he remembered the _single _time Jack had managed to talk him into pranking North. They lined the hallway outside of North's door with saran wrap, banged the door aggressively till they heard him charge and then watched as North barreled from his room and right into the saran wrap.

Course it hadn't knocked him on his ass like it would a normal Human, but it was still amusing to watch North sputter and curse as he pried saran wrap from his face. He felt Jack nudge his side again and he glanced over to Jack, wiping any sense of humor from his face. He grunted again when Jack asked him something, turning back to the window and watching the traffic go by next to them. Eventually they pulled up to the Carnival parking area, Jack offering to pay for the parking spot. Tooth parked the car and sent a grin over her shoulder to Jack as he practically vibrated in his seat with excitement.

"Aster, I have one request." Jack stated as they lurched from Tooth's car a few minutes later and headed for the entrance of the Carnival. He flinched as Jack grabbed hold of his arm and tugged to get his attention. "Ride the Ferris Wheel with me when we get around to it?"

He groaned. "Jack, y'gumbie, I'm not going on a Ferris Wheel."

Jack pouted and soon Aster's other arm was grabbed up by Tooth and she joined in as well. "Come on, Aster, ride the Ferris Wheel with Jack! It's my turn to ride with North anyways!"

"When did we ever take turns riding Ferris Wheels?!" Aster barked in confusion, grunting when North grabbed hold of Tooth's arm and tugged them into the entrance after handing the tickets over.

After jumping on one or two of the lacking rides, both from Jack's influence, and then catching one or two shows that Tooth insisted on, they found themselves paying absurd amounts of money for the many rigged games. North and Aster eventually got into a shooting contest at one particular booth, the guy working the booth practically licking his chops as North and Aster kept making bets with one another. Jack and Tooth weren't helping either, both of the two troublesome beings egging them on with their incessant cheering and energy.

"Last one, North." Aster stated with a sly grin. "Otherwise we'll be broke. Best two out of three."

"Dah." North stated, sending a competitive glance at Aster as they both paid for three games. "Get ready to pay up."

Aster snorted. The game was about to start until Tooth stepped between them.

"Wait, Aster if you lose you _have_ to go on that Haunted House ride with Jack." She stated with an evil glint to her eyes.

"Oi, we already agreed to a hundred bucks to the winner—no adding in torture." He stated, getting the fake gun positioned right in his grip.

"Dah, I like that bet." North stated. "If I win you give me a hundred dollars and you ride with Jack. If you win I give you a hundred dollars and I ride with Jack."

Aster chewed on his lower lip. He dropped the gun and held out his hand, always willing to be a little risky with his bets.

"Fine." He shook with North and they both got ready again. "Get ready to lose, North. I'm not getting on some shit-tastic Haunted House ride."

North merely snorted, and then beat the shit out of Aster at the game. He ground his teeth, hating that his natural rival beat him. Jack, however, told them the ride could wait as he got distracted by something that Tooth was looking at. Aster rolled his eyes. The two had the attention spans of a couple of ankle-biters.

They spent the entire day with Jack and Tooth being hyper, and the damn cotton candy was _no help_ in that regard. But…regrettably, it brought a smile to Aster's face. Eventually North and Tooth ducked off to grab themselves something to 'drink' and left Aster and Jack in line for the shabby looking 'Haunted House'. They got to the front of the line and into the rickety cart. Jack wriggled in the seat like an excited kid while Aster frowned and crossed his arms, ignoring how fucking adorable Jack's behavior was. The ride started and ushered Jack and himself through a pair of curtains that _barely _blocked any light from entering.

He glowered at the thing that popped out at him, growled angrily towards the puff of air that was supposed to make him jump and instead just annoyed him and then resisted the urge to just outright strangle Jack for dragging him onto this ride. He slouched in the uncomfortable chair and closed his eyes. He sat for a moment and took in an inhale to ignore the crud-tastic Haunted House. Unfortunately, he immediately regretting closing his eyes and taking that breath because it brought his other senses to the forefront. Mainly it made him focus on that churning thirst in his middle that had been growing like a cresting wave as the day grew on, and made him listen to Jack's heart which was pumping quickly. He scented the air, noting Jack's scent had changed from his usual chilly, minty, scent to the more anxious scent he had been expelling since Aster had almost lost it five months ago. He jerked back into a sitting position and clenched his jaw as he felt his hunger nudge at him and his teeth begin to ache. Yep, he was going to need the Blood House tonight—and a week early to boot. He shook his head and outright jumped when Jack leaned over to him and cupped his mouth so that he could tell him something without being drowned out by the noises in the Haunted House.

"I know what you, and the others, are." He stated, leaning back and worrying the bar with his hands that sat across their laps, his brows drawn together as he stared at his hands.

Aster tensed. _What _exactly did Jack know about them? He turned his head to face Jack and noted how nervous he looked as he chewed on his lower lip and wrung the bar between his hands. He raised his brows high on his forehead, higher than the edge of his sunglasses.

"And what, do ya know about what we are?" Aster stated during a somewhat quiet portion of the house.

_Please say we're convicts…or crooks…or better yet dealers. Just __**don't**__ say what I think you're going to say_. Aster mentally pleaded with Jack.

Jack huffed, leaning back over to say: "Vampires."

His heart, pumping slowly as it was from lack of blood in his system, dropped to his stomach. He realized with certainty that Jack was glancing up at him nervously, even if he did look as if a weight had just been lifted from his chest. If he hadn't had his sunglasses on, he had no doubt his eyes would have been glowing fiercely as panic hit him first before he covered it with the familiar strength he found in anger. He saw Jack's eyes widen and turned to look away. _Great. Just bloody well dandy_.

**Jack**

Jack rushed after Aster, immediately regretting his decision. _Stupid_. He thought to himself as he dashed after Aster in the dawning eve. He should have kept his mouth shut, but honestly, they could have at least _tried _to hide what they were better. It hadn't taken a genius to put two and two together, especially with memories of Jack's past popping back into place as he spent more and more time with Tooth before they met up with Jamie for lunch twice a week.

He had found himself usually waiting about an hour for Jamie to show up to their designated lunch meetings and when Tooth found out that he was waiting that long she offered to keep him company for that extra hour, which eventually turned into her tagging along for lunch frequently. In that hour Jack spent with Tooth she'd press him with questions about his past and at first it had been nothing but blurry images—which sparked her curiosity. As time ticked on, though, he found himself remembering more and more information that he'd have sworn was locked away in a box at the back of his head, and he didn't have the key to it. However it appeared that Tooth, of all people, just seemed to have a way of digging information out—unlocking that box-…which was exactly when she found out he was a Frost Hunter. It had scared her, without a doubt, but she was a persistent being who genuinely cared about him. She had outright asked him as more and more memories clicked into place if he ever planned on hurting her, or the others.

When he had said no she had nodded. Then she continued to press him for more information, the two starting up an odd friendship from this hidden secret between the two that they decided to keep it a secret until Jack was _sure_ he remembered everything. Though if he had to be honest, he figured his memories would have eventually came back on their own as his headaches grew more intense each time he noticed things in the club.

He had to be honest; leaving around glasses with a small portion of reddish liquid at the bottom wasn't exactly the smartest thing to do. It hadn't been noticeable at first, but he was assuming that their familiarity with him was making them sloppy. Then there was the whole atmosphere of the VIP section with people that were _obviously _not from this day and age. Add into that the little things that he himself had been picking up when it came to Aster and Jack had his ingredients and had cooked his recipe, essentially causing his memories to 'ding' back into existence in a migraine that had floored him for twenty four hours. His friends were Vampires, and they ran a club that catered to both Humans, Vampires and he was betting other Supernaturals. In the five months Jack had worked with them he'd been noticing little details about them that made him realize that he was safe with them and that his father's basic Hunting training could shove it.

He wasn't in danger with them, so he didn't need to run. He wasn't going to kill or destroy them, because he actually liked them and he _really_ liked one of them, even if he was a grumpy asshole. Plus he doubted he could even do anything about them without any training. The basics didn't get anyone far, just killed. It took at least a solid year to train correctly, and even then it took a monumentous amount of effort and a heavy array of weapons. The ladder of which Jack didn't have at his disposal.

North, for instance, was a force to be reckoned with. He had literally tugged a guy three times his girth from the club and threw him like he didn't weigh an ounce, which had first set Jack's thoughts into motion when it came to Hunting these beings. Then there was the time North had pried some couple apart when they were necking in the corner, only for Jack to spot the telltale puncture marks on the woman's neck when he had them split and watched as North dragged the guy in question from the club and he'd never been seen since.

Sandy was another hint. The guy was so quiet, and it wasn't because he was mute. He had this…ability to almost float into a room. It wasn't terrifying in the least, but it did unsettle Jack when he happened to have caught Sandy doing it while he paced in the early hours of the club getting ready to open.

Then there was Tooth. She was so chipper and happy all the time when she wasn't working, but when she was working she had that predatory gaze about her that set the hairs on the back of his neck on end. He didn't know how to describe it, but he felt like she didn't particularly _like _the clientele that she had to serve in the VIP room. Almost as if she stood on the opposite side of whatever group her clientele belonged too. He likened it to a miniature war that was threatening the horizon. Or, better yet, a mother that didn't approve of what her kid was doing for a living. It made him wonder why she bartended that section, but he assumed it was due to the fact that if she worked up front she'd spend more time being held up by inebriated Human men than Aster.

Aster. Not only had he attracted Jack's attention as he got to know the grumpy, usually nervous, Australian but he'd found himself at the end of Aster's predatory gaze one too many times. Course every time he thought about that heated stare he got from Aster it turned him on and made him begin to joke and suggest things towards Aster to see how he would react. However, Aster had been the one who practically ruined the entire charade for them the day, five months ago to be exact, where he almost attacked Jack. He had known something was wrong with Aster, those bright green eyes of his seeming to glitter with lights of their own every now and again through that entire lesson. He had probably thought he was hiding it, but Jack had noticed. Then there was the breaking point for Jack, the moment he cut his finger on that glass and watched as Aster bolted from the room with a speed he almost couldn't keep up with.

It was that event that made Jack realize that no matter _what_ these people were, they weren't going to hurt him. The fact that Aster had chosen to flee instead of rip into his throat had stuck the nail in the coffin when it came to hunting. He would not follow in his father's footsteps, or at least…not on the same path. If a training opportunity came up he'd be more than willing to take it for his own safety, but he wasn't going to harm a hair on his friend's heads.

Jack, though, couldn't seem to quite figure Aster out. He knew North, Sandy and Tooth drank from bagged and bottled blood—Tooth after finding out about his past, helped him dig up the memories every time they hung out together, but Aster was the only confusing aspect of the group. Mainly: he fed from people, bagged and bottled blood. He had figured out about Aster when he had just so happened to have been walking home late one night when he'd seen Aster talking to a girl that was just a foot below him in height and had Jack's reed thin body that looked like it belonged to an active runner. He'd seen the two joking and laughing for a moment before the girl dragged Aster into an alley, and thinking something bad was going to happen, he had dashed forward.

He had seen the entire thing, Aster nuzzled the woman's neck, bit down as she writhed against him and then he had lifted his mouth and Jack had seen those sharp and undeniable canine fangs elongated in Aster's mouth, covered in the woman's blood as his eyes burned with a bright and glittering green that reminded him of grass in the Spring sun as he sent the woman a look full of gratitude before he lowered his mouth back to her throat. Jack had a mixture of emotions when he'd seen this, frozen in place like a deer in headlights as he watched. It was quite possibly the hottest thing he had ever seen, which only added tinder to an already simmering flame. Yet at the same time it was the most begrudgingly hardest thing to watch. Jealousy, confusion, arousal and to top it all off he wished _he _had been the one Aster was feeding from. All of those emotions mixed and churned into a heady pot of bewilderment. He was unsure if Aster _was_ actually attracted to him or if Aster was teasing him. It didn't help much that he could never really tell how Aster reacted to most of his come ons. They were usually met with a simple smirk or a witty remark that distracted from the initial proposition. That train of thought, though, was disrupted when his head gave a sharp and undeniable stab of pain.

That entire scenario had sent all of Tooth's little tidbits of memories crashing together into a single cohesive wave. He had barely made it home as memories started sparking in his head in their correct order instead of just broken bits. They were memories he could have sworn he would never remember again. Things he was content to let rest peacefully in the back of his mind.

The most unsettling thing he remembered was currently growing within him, making him have to halt his chase after Aster and try to control the power that was infused with his emotions. He stopped for a brief moment in the crowds of the Carnival, clenching his hand and feeling that chilling power gather in the center of his fist before he shook it away and darted back after Aster, pushing away the panic that was gripping his heart and causing the cold powers to manifest of their own free will, causing a chilled wind to follow him as he pushed through the crowds.

"Aster, please!" Jack shouted grabbing hold of his arm, in the flurry of emotion at the prospect of losing what little ground he had made with Aster, and let out the ice he still had trouble controlling. He watched as Aster froze in place, his sunglass covered eyes darting down to his ice licked sleeve before his mouth fell open in what he assumed was both horror and surprise. "Aster please. I—I need…"

Aster's head turned around sharply as he looked like he was searching for something. "Come on!"

Aster grabbed Jack's arm and tugged him to the Ferris Wheel line where North and Tooth waited for them. They huddled together, keeping their voices low and near whispers as the line slowly moved.

"Jacky here has ice powers." Aster stated, flipping his sunglasses up onto the crown of his head. Jack noticed his eyes as they brightened a little in the dimming light of day. "Were either of ya aware of this?!"

North shrugged. "Tooth had just informed me now of Jack's memory, and apparently his family's chilling ability." He plucked at Aster's sleeve with his lips pursed. "Jack, you need to control yourself."

Aster's gaze darted to Tooth as she glanced up to the sky innocently. Aster clenched his jaw and Jack just _knew _he cut off a _very _animalistic growl of anger from escaping his throat.

"Tooth, how long?" Jack winced at Aster's sharp and biting tone.

"Since he remembered his first night accompanying his father on a hunt two months ago?" She shrugged. "He did it by accident when I was giving him lessons. The ice stuff that is, the memories of his family being—you know—just kinda popped in and out as we hung out together over the past few months."

"And ya felt the need ta keep this a secret why?" He bit out.

"I'll fucking tell you why." Jack interjected hissing it out between his teeth, putting himself between Tooth and Aster. He glared up to Aster as they reached the front of the line before he nodded his head behind Aster as the guy opened the gate to let them on. "Get on with me and I'll tell you everything."

Jack took in a sharp breath moments later, looking towards the setting sun as they were stuck near the top. He had told Aster everything and Aster had remained silent and glancing off to the left, away from Jack, never once turning his head back around to look at him.

"So…that's it. I remember I'm a Hunter, I know who Pitch is and what he did to me and I know who killed my father." He let out a dejected sigh. "I guess I have ice powers like my father had…but I'm not good at controlling them."

Aster snorted finally turning to face Jack as he indicated towards his sleeve that was sporting a wet spot as he motioned towards it with a hand and a cocked brow. "Obviously."

They sat in silence for a moment. Jack heaved another breath before he finally decided to tell Aster more. Things they _knew _sat between them unresolved. He might as well…right? The whole Hunting family past and genetic ice powers were the biggest part of this entire day, which he had secretly planned with Tooth over the past month when he got the nerves to finally let them all in on his secret.

"Listen Aster…I don't know if you—" He groaned and covered his hands with his face as butterflies rose in his stomach. He was about to toe a line, and he wasn't sure if Aster was on the same side as him or not. He didn't even know if Aster was furious with him or just silently processing the information Jack was giving him. Or if he would even listen to him since he seemed so silently livid. "I—er…"

"Out with it ya dill." Aster snapped. "Whatever ya've got ta tell me now can't be any worse than telling me yer soul purpose in life is ta hunt and kill my kind."

Jack snorted. "Naw, this is much worse."

"How the bloody—" Jack cut him off.

He pressed into Aster; hiked himself up a little bit using the bar across their laps and gave his lips a peck. He immediately retreated after the touch, not having the will to remain there for long as a blush raked itself from the collar of his shirt upwards into his cheeks. Their seats moved again and Jack chewed his lip, glancing to Aster nervously.

Seven months of eyeing each other from across the room after their initial meeting. Five months of shouting at each other. Five months of outright denying that pull they both seemed to have with one another. Not anymore. Jack was either going to get this goddamn thing settled or drop it should Aster ask him too.

"Well?" Jack pried as they headed back to Tooth's car ten _very _quiet minutes later, hell he didn't even think Aster had remembered to fake his breathing.

"Well Ah haven't decked ya fer doing that yet." He shot back, his voice a mixture of anger, unease and nerves which was why his accent cut through. He sighed and held out his arm to get Jack to stop walking as North and Tooth kept forward towards the car. Jack gulped when Aster turned to fully face him, those butterflies in his stomach making it cramp painfully and his eyes widening. "Listen, Jacky—"

He knew where this was going already. He sighed and shook his head. "I got it. No need to go on."

He had held up his hands and started walking towards the car. Typical. He found someone outright attractive, had a real personality and showed he cared about people every day by keeping his thirst in check and Jack had read everything wrong. Even those lust filled stares Aster gave him from across the bar. He could have _sworn_ he'd seen that Aster was interested, even if he did outright flirt with one or two men that came into the club…course he also did so with the women, and to an extent with Jack when he initiated it. But…those looks he gave Jack, that smile he saved for the few moments the two weren't at each other's throats and the continuous heat that was sparked between them as time rolled on…how could he have read that all _wrong_? Jack grabbed his head and hung it before he was grabbed and tugged into Aster's chest in an embrace.

"Ya know, ya should really _wait _fer someone ta finish their sentence before runnin' off." Aster snapped before he leaned forward and brushed his lips against Jack's, leaving him stunned from surprise. He withdrew fairly quickly, though, and stepped past him to follow North and Tooth to the car while he shouted over his shoulder, "We have a _lot _ta talk about before we go any further!"

When Jack got back home later that night Jamie was waiting. Jack closed the door, leaned into it and fell to his butt in unadulterated bliss while Abby attacked his face with a barrage of excited licks and yips.

"Well, how'd the day go?" Jamie asked with genuine curiosity in his voice.

"Beyond expectations." Jack replied with a cocky smirk and chucking the bag of chocolate covered sunflower seeds at Jamie. He had bought them just for him at his request.

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Whelp there ya go. Chapter 7, expect some Bunny Jack alone time (I think I'll go that way for now). Remember 2-3 reviews and I'll ignite a fire under my own ass and slam it out (I've got it pretty much pre-written, just gotta do the writing and editing myself before I ship to editor). Thanks for reading, thank you for the favorites and follows and BIG thanks to the many numerous people who have read this and haven't commented...yea I'm shutting up now, sorry haha.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer**: Any and all characters from Rise of the Guardians are copyright of DreamWorks. I created Drake, Doug, Diana and Laura (and possibly anyone else) to act as plot points so they are my creations.

So first off the speed at which you guys left reviews last time was f*cking amazing and a bit flooring to be honest. I woke up and BOOM inbox was stuffed with 2 reviews followed by a 3rd shortly after that. So once again big shout out to my editor and to you guys:

To Optimistic Emo Kleptomaniac: OP delivering! Enjoy!

To ScarletPendragonKurosaki: Thank you for the review! I can assure you the gang is in fer some _shit_.

And lastly to Kayla: First off, I got the sploosh thing from a TV show called Archer and I suggest checking Urban Dictionary for the definition(s) because I'm a tad shy to add it into the A/N. Then I LOLed at the 'I have to remind myself what I wrote' because that's so me its ridiculous. Secondly, I am well aware that there are people who willingly donate blood (I am...way too immersed in Vampire stuff it's almost a hobby) because they're sating a 'hunger' (I actually have a documentary that features them called: Vampire Secrets on DVD). Thirdly, I wanted you guys worried! I have to admit if I found out something that big I'd high tail it the fuck away too...

Anyways, here's Chapter 7 guys!** Edit Sept 1, 2013**: It's official, I'm done moping again (ranting to people really helped). Next update in 2 weeks, give or take reviews. The longer I need to wait the longer I deny you guys Jack and Aster (Bunny)...I am a cruel, cruel, author, but one driven by plot...mostly. I admit I slip once or twice in later Chapters (hint, hint, nudge, nudge, wink, wink).

**Serious Edit Sept 12, 2013**: So...I said 2 weeks on Chapter 8, but I am afraid that's changed due to a mix of a _lot_ of things that are out of my power. My editors computer decided to die and neither of us has the money to fix it so we have to go the old fashioned route with printing (omg that's _so_ dated haha) and hope that works for now. As for more personal/life things I'm dealing with one of my close friends having a breakdown from a combination of a break up teamed with his (ex)girlfriend stealing all of his friends in the process, and I'm stuck having to pick up the pieces. Add into that me working 3 days a week doing manual labor and you've currently got That-Cheeky-Bat a bit busy-oh and I have to start apply to Universities soon too...soooooo...review (I know you guys are reading this, I _see_ it on the graph so leave your thoughts behind please) and I'll get Chapter 8 up and maybe tack in a teaser for another story Jack/Bunny story I'm working on (probably not, these chapters are long enough). So, there ya go. You're all caught up on why I'm not updating this Friday (unless my editor makes magic happen). Wish me luck.

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**Chapter 7**: Calm Before the Storm

**Jack**

It was Thursday morning and Jack was supposed to be in his second class of the day. Instead he had ditched, grabbed a horrible B-movie from the local video store and high tailed it across town to Manny's. Why? Well for one he felt like he needed a break. The other reason? Last night, before work, he had somehow managed to convince Aster to watch a horrible movie with him today. He had thrown his backpack down onto the edge of Aster's bar and had just climbed onto it to reach the TV, surprisingly a new flat screen over the bar that flaunted some of the drinks for the night, when he thought about what Aster had told him last night:

_"Ah'll watch a horrible movie with ya, mate, but as long Ah don't have ta go outside." Aster had told him, sounding worn out in the process. He had been surprised when Aster looked up at him after saying this, dark circles under his eyes. "Ah can't take anymore sunlight fer the time being."_

It was why Jack had dropped by the video store, ditched class and was just about to climb down from Aster's bar when he jumped with a yelp after turning around. Aster stood below him, arms crossed while he scowled at Jack. He put a hand to his chest to get his heart to stop beating against his sternum as he puffed out a breath of relief from the scare.

"God damn Aster, do I need to get you a collar with a bell on it?" He murmured, glancing towards him. "Fuck you scared the shit out of me. Make some goddamn noise or something; _some_ of us can still have heart attacks."

"Yer death would be a blessin' in disguise, mate. Mah bar wouldn't have ta put up with anymore injuries from yer nimble fingers breakin' everything in, on and around it." Aster smirked up at him when he scoffed indignantly.

"But think of how lonely you'd be if I wasn't here to cause you misery!" He teased with a wide grin.

Jack was surprised when Aster just shook his head and then helped him down from his bar. He watched as those green eyes darted to the footprints that were left behind. Aster rolled those eyes over to Jack who shrugged and gave him an innocent smile.

"Where are yer bloody shoes?" Aster asked in such a way that it reminded him of a mother scolding her child.

"I kicked 'em off." Jack shrugged. "I wanted to be comfortable." He then tilted his head and glanced up at Aster. He noticed Aster hadn't immediately let go of him. "You okay? You seem a little…lethargic."

"Ah'll be a'right." Aster pulled away to turn and nudged his arm with his elbow with a feigned smile. How did Jack know it was fake? Well, it didn't reach those green eyes that were glittering with specks of their own light. "What'd ya get ta watch?"

"Ankle-Biters." He picked up the DVD case and waved it at Aster. He watched Aster's face turn grim. "What?!"

"Yer kiddin', right?" Aster uttered; his voice bleak. "Ya got a bloody horrible Vampire flick?"

"Yep!" Jack turned, waving towards one of the booths in Aster's section that he had pried the curtain open of when he deemed it the best spot to view the flat screen. "Come on, it's starting!"

Five minutes in Jack heard Aster grumble, "Their bloody fangs aren't in the right place."

"What are you talking about? Don't you know that's the new fad?" Jack snickered.

"They don't go next ta the bloody front teeth, Jack. They go where yer canines are!" Aster opened his mouth and pointed to the teeth in question with both index fingers before he snapped his mouth shut. "Also _those_ are not fangs," Jack snickered when Aster's fangs lengthened for a split second and he leaned forward to flash those teeth, "these are fangs."

Jack shook his head when the fangs retracted, ignoring how he felt an immediate heat in his lower abdomen when he saw them. Silence fell between them again with Aster groaning in misery each time a Vampire opened its mouth or a bad line was delivered. Finally, though, when Jack got the nerve to scoot closer to Aster he noticed his entire form stiffen and he edged away. He thought it was just nerves, but then Aster never made a move. Jack shrugged it off and turned back to the movie. Eventually though, Jack couldn't help but notice that Aster was purposefully keeping distance between them. He found it curious and _very_ unsettling. Had he done something wrong? Was it because he had his bare feet on the bar? He glanced to Aster, who had pulled out his phone when a buzzing sound rang out. Then he saw Aster wince after checking the screen and rub his face with his hand. The dismal look on his face told Jack one thing: something was wrong.

"Okay." Jack stated suddenly, making Aster jump when he scooted across the seat and then leaned his shoulder into Aster's. "What's up? You're sitting over there all melancholy and mopey—not to mention how tense you are. Do I make you _that_ nervous?"

He had hoped his teasing would loosen the mood but he watched anxiously as Aster's face snapped into an unreadable mask. Jack frowned at Aster before he sighed, throwing his hands up in the air and scooting back to his original seat.

"Alright, fine. If you don't want to talk about it it's fine. If you want I can stay up here and watch this amazingly bad movie all by my lonesome and you can have a rain check." Jack stated, his gaze going back to the horribly recorded movie on the flat screen while a small bit of his temper flared. He could feel how anxious Aster was, and believed the reason Aster was acting so strange was somehow related to _what_ he was and Jack hoped it had nothing to do with him. "I don't want it to sound like I'm demanding you to do it, but you honestly don't look well and I'm worried th—"

"Mah donor just cancelled on me." Aster interjected suddenly, his arms crossing again as he slouched into the seat. "Ah hate ta sound like Ah'm complaining, but the Carnival a few days ago was draining fer me. It was great and all but it was especially draining fer me. Ah wanted ta get blood in me ta recover before ya arrived so Ah could actually enjoy today without having ta worry about mah thirst acting up."

Jack straightened in his seat, guilt ripping through him. "How…how so?" He asked, turning his face away from the TV and glancing at Aster who had tilted his head back along the back of the booth's seat with his eyes closed. "What's wrong?"

"How much do ya know about us, Jack?" Aster asked, cracking an eye and gazing at him through eyes that held a thick border of eyelashes that just brought out the dimly glowing green of Aster's eyes. "Ah mean really, how much do ya know?"

Jack shrugged. "I know how to kill you for good. Chop your heads off or burn your bodies, both of which can only really be achieved when you're staked. I knew you guys could walk in daylight without any ill effects and—"

He stopped when Aster held up his hand. "Ah'll start from the beginning with our weaknesses, yea?"

Jack's eyes widened and he curled his legs up to his chest, setting his chin on his knees while Aster breathed in a deep breath before he straightened in his seat and turned slightly to face Jack. He noticed Aster kept his gaze low, his eyes half lidded and he made sure to keep his face unreadable. It unnerved Jack when Aster did this, wondering if it was something that he had either purposefully practiced through time—or if he had just flat out adopted it upon his turning. He had seen Aster whip that expressionless face out countless times before, especially when he was pressing Aster for answers when he hadn't had his memories back.

"The first most noticeable one is silver." Aster's face twisted for but a mere moment and he absently rubbed at his thigh. "Silver…burns us if it touches our skin and can be unbearable if injected into our bloodstream." Jack was about to ask a question when Aster glanced up at him with a smirk. "Ah'm not done." Jack watched as Aster shook his head with a genuine, if not weak, laugh. "The silver has ta touch us, or be injected. Ta be honest mate, injecting it into us is essentially putting liquid fire in our veins, North can explain it ta ya he had a crew of Vampire Hunters do it ta him. It weakens us, saps our strength and burns like a bloody volcano. Enough of it in our system could kill us, otherwise it's a great way ta torture us."

Aster adjusted his seating position, turning completely sideways in the booth's seat and lounging back with his right knee bent while his left leg hung under the table. "That weakness to silver is exactly why—if ya see us fight—we use weapons edged with it, as dangerous as that might be fer us. The reason ya see us using silver edged weapons is due ta the fact that it takes a little more ta heal than normal weapons—same can be said with other Supernatural caused wounds." Jack nodded when Aster's eyes flicked up to him before going back to the table. He wondered when, or if, he would see these weapons that Aster spoke of. "Stakes paralyze us, but don't kill us. As ya said, taking our heads or incinerating our bodies are the only way ta kill us. Sunlight _does_ burn us, but who doesn't it burn? It does damage, and the reason it's so dangerous for us is due ta our bodies constantly needing ta heal the damage it does ta us." Then Aster threw his right arm up onto his bent knee and gazed at his left thigh as it disappeared below the table. "Ah can't think of anythin' else that's _our_ weaknesses. Garlic doesn't bother me, in fact Ah think food _with_ garlic is some of the only food Ah actually get an ounce of taste from. Churches and Holy water are out; Ah both got thrown into a church and the Holy water basin without so much as a flicker of burning."

"Why silver?" Jack asked, his voice surprisingly quiet. "I mean some of the myths surrounding you guys say that mirrors mar your reflections because they're made with silver…is that true? I doubt it is because the last time I looked in the mirror with you your reflection was fine, aside from the glowing green eyes, but I'd rather you actually confirm it."

Aster's shoulders shrugged and Jack watched a contemplative look cross his features. "Ta address the 'why'…Ah think it has something ta do with the original being who was cursed, their weakness that is. Legend, among our kind at least, says he or she was originally allergic to silver. But the curse took that allergy and transformed it into something else, twisted it into a weakness." Aster then frowned towards Jack, almost looking exasperated with him. "As fer the mirror thing, which is bloody ridiculous if ya ask me, it's completely false. The allergy being encompassed into the curse explains why it burns like no other ta us, but it has ta touch us. Our reflection in a mirror isn't _touching_ us, nor is it going ta mar our reflection just because we're essentially allergic to it. That's all hocus pocus bullshit that became popular fer some reason or another."

Jack mulled this over, eventually nodding before he asked: "So…Daylight's good, it just takes a lot of blood to heal?"

Aster's head tilted back after he nodded and Jack could have sworn he saw his brows knit together in a pained expression. He turned his gaze back to the movie, adjusting his seating and jumping when his leg rubbed against Aster's below the table. He quickly retracted his leg from Aster's and muttered an apology, feeling like that bit of contact could set Aster off.

"It's fine, Jack." He frowned when Aster murmured that, surprised that he hadn't referred to him as 'Jacky', which seemed to be his favorite name for him. "Ah'm…sorry. Ah wanted today ta go a little more differently than it is."

Jack frowned towards him before he got a wind of confidence. "I can fix that."

Jack smirked, scooting back over to Aster and positioning himself between Aster's legs, lifting his left leg up and placing it over his knees. He chuckled when Aster balked, flailed and then slumped back onto the seat at the awkward positioning Jack had just made him go through. Aster lurched into a seating position with a look of exasperation on his face. He grinned at Aster and snickered when he moved quickly, curling his back so that he could lean his head on Jack's shoulder while he held his waist. He couldn't help but notice that Aster's entire body was tense and that Aster had stopped breathing.

**Aster**

Aster scolded himself in his head. _Let him go. This isn't going ta end well if ya don't let him go_.

Yet…he couldn't bring himself to do it. There was _something_ about this proximity to Jack that was both throwing his gnawing thirst into overdrive and quelling it at the same time. However, to help control himself, he had stopped breathing. Jack's scent was too good, too tantalizing…yet here he was holding Jack in his arms and curling his cold self into what warmth Jack expelled. Hell, he even leaned his heavy head, which was beginning to throb painfully as he struggled to hold his fangs in, on Jack's shoulder because it was oddly comforting.

"So I need to ask…what about powers? Can you do the mist and bat stuff? My dad never had anything about it, but I'm assuming his information was wrong." Aster tilted his head so his ear sat closer to Jack's collarbone. The man's voice, which was surprisingly deep and soothing for such a small frame, soothed his fraying nerves like a balm and relaxed his tensed muscles…not to mention that alluring metronome beating of his heart that was slowly turning into a soothing lullaby to his ears. "Aster?"

"Hm?" He hummed, his eyes snapping open in fear when he realized that in those short few moments he had began to be hypnotized by Jack's heartbeat. That steady rhythm calling to him like a siren. He'd laid his head on Jack to listen to that smooth voice rumble out from his being, not be distracted by the kid's healthy heartbeat. "Oh…powers. Well…Ah'm surprisingly fast fer someone my age. Ah was turned in eighteen eighty at about twenty five—which is about a hundred and thirty three years of being an actual Vampire. If ya want ta tack on my twenty five years of Human life then that's about a hundred and fifty eight years. Anyway, someone my age isn't supposed ta be as quick as Ah am, Ah've got some weapon training Ah picked up from North and ta balance everythin' out Ah picked up martial arts—wide varieties—for those moments where hand ta hand is needed. North is a weapons savant, and as Ah said he's trained each of us in a little of everything. He can pick up a weapon and have it mastered by the end of the day, and Ah think he has a little experience with magic—just nothing too extreme. Tooth can, actually, fly…or does she hover? Ah don't know, mate, ask her. Ya've probably also noticed she never runs out of energy and she's fast, but not nearly as fast as me. As fer Sandy…? Ah haven't seen him do anything as of yet outside of some basic magic. He can lull people ta sleep by soothing them with his touch, but other than that Ah can't think of anything that he does."

He shrugged, telling his unresponsive arms to let go of Jack and sit back away from him. _Damn ya Kitten_, he swore mentally, _Ah needed ya today_. He clenched his hands when he finally let go of Jack's forearms and slowly—painfully and precariously—leaned back away from Jack. He relaxed a little when he leaned back and then groaned and closed his eyes when Jack followed, laying his head on his chest. He tilted his head back and cursed the burning and clenching in his throat.

"How do you…y'know?" He heard Jack ask cautiously. "Turn someone."

Aster couldn't help the quirking of his lips. "Ya thinkin' of turning Jacky?"

He felt Jack tense before he took in a breath and sniffed the air. Jack's fear laced, sour, scent racked the area around them. Sighing, Aster gave Jack's back a reassuring rub.

"Ah'm kidding, mate. Ah can't turn anyone—too young—and neither can Tooth or North, though I think North is only fifty some years off from the siring age." He watched Jack's head tilt up with his mouth already opening. "Two hundred and fifty, mate. It takes two hundred and fifty years of accumulated power ta turn someone successfully. Sandy's _way_ over that limit, but he refuses ta turn anyone. He doesn't want ta damn another ta this life. As fer how ya turn? It requires draining the person ya want ta turn of their blood and sending them into a coma-like state where then ya feed them yer blood then push power inta them ta wake 'em up. From what Ah've heard ya have at least two minutes ta give the person that push of power followed by yer blood before they pass. Then it's three days of slowly turning, the Vampire blood taking over and tearing ya apart bit by bit, molecule by molecule. By the thirty six hour mark ya need an ingestion of Human blood, Ah'm unsure if this can be from the bottle or if its required ta be from the vein, and ya ain't got the teeth ta get ta the blood yet which is why yer sire is so important. After all of that torture ya still have a _long_ road ahead of ya. Think of yerself as a feral kitten, ya spend time with people and ya adjust…if ya don't…well _they_ put ya down because by that time it's too late ta adjust."

"Who are they?" Jack asked, his index finger circling on his left pec enticingly.

"The Elders." Aster reached down and halted Jack's finger, gently linking their fingers together and then laying their connected hands on his sternum. He had done this for one simple reason, Jack's tracing finger was getting distracting—and not in the good way. "Every fledgling has ta go in front of them and be judged. If ya don't pass they take yer head."

Jack's brows were risen high in disbelief on his forehead as he digested that bit of information and then looked as if he was pushing that knowledge away, choosing to not even address it. "So…now let's get to you." Jack pushed himself up from Aster's chest and narrowed his gaze at him. "Why are you so…slothy?"

Aster barked out a quick laugh as he stared at those brown eyes that held flecks of gold to them. "Slothy?"

"Yea." Jack glowered towards him. "You moved pretty quick there to hug me, but other than that every movement looks like it's taking a _lot_ of energy."

"Jack…Ah need blood." He ground out, somewhat unwillingly.

"I'll go get some for you then." Jack began to push from his spot but Aster shot his hand out and gripped Jack's left forearm, tugging him back to his spot.

"It won't help, mate." He murmured, laying his head back on the booth's cushioning and sighing as he ignored that churning thirst. "Ya know Tooth, North and Sandy can all survive on strictly bagged or bottled blood, right?"

"Yes." Jack's voice was wary.

"Ah can't survive strictly off it." He regrettably admitted, feeling guilt rack him. "It…it was one of the reasons Ah almost jumped ya when Ah was teachin' ya. Ah have some defect, that we're assuming is connected ta my markings." He cracked an eye and looked at Jack. "Ya know about 'Beauty Marks', right?"

He watched Jack's head shake. "Nope."

He sat up, motioning to his eyes, running a hand through his hair, tracing one of his tattoos and then ending the entire thing by gently slapping his forearm. "All of this, mah eyes, hair and the slight tan ta mah skin are considered 'Beauty Marks' ta some of our kind. It's rare, and the only reason Ah haven't been nabbed up yet is due ta me rarely being alone. Though…Ah'm not entirely sure if mah tattoos are part of the Beauty Marks or not. They should have healed when Ah turned…"

"How about you save that mystery for later and get to the point, Aster." Jack stated, curling his legs up onto the seat and cuddling into his chest again.

He clenched his hands, panting out a quick breath to alleviate some of his more primal urges due to Jack's proximity, before nodding. "Tooth's friend works as a Doctor at the local Hospital; she's been one for close ta a hundred years and has connections that we can only dream of. She took a sample of blood from me when Ah almost attacked ya, literally the day after, and she spent a good three ta four days analyzing it, researching and comparing it ta other previous studies. Turns out that anyone with these markings have this defect where we don't produce a certain enzyme that others do…something got botched in the turning process. Case and point? Ah need fresh blood once a month from Humans ta borrow their enzyme. Once Ah have that Ah can digest blood from a bag or bottle again until the enzyme runs out of mah system a month later." He sucked in a sharp breath, his heart clenching with what he was about to tell Jack. "When we went ta the Carnival…all that daylight…Jack…it wore out what little bit of the enzyme Ah had in my system because Ah had ta use mah own blood ta heal."

"So…all this? It's my fault?" Jack's voice wavered and cracked with guilt.

"No y'gumbie, no one said it's yer fault!" Aster lurched forward at the upset look Jack's eyes adopted. "It's not like ya could have known. Don't…don't blame yerself." He set his head on Jack's shoulder again, gently rubbing his chin on his collarbone as he hugged his small frame. "Look Ah'll be a'right, Ah just need ta call mah donor. Just give me a few moments, a'right? Don't blame yerself and wipe that look off yer face, ya made me feel like Ah just kicked a bloody puppy."

He lifted his head, leaned forward, and gave Jack's cheek a chaste kiss before he started rubbing Jack's back with his hand again as he dialed Kitten, his donor. The phone rang three times before Kitten's voice filtered through.

"M'lo?" She said, her tone bleary.

"Kitten, ya a'right?"

"Tired." Her voice was weak. "Fed…someone…took a lot."

Aster's head tilted back and he rolled his eyes up into his head as he closed them. "Fuck."

"M'sorry." Kitten replied. "Don…had drop in…needed money…"

Aster lifted his hand from the back of Jack and ran it through his hair, tugging on the longer center when he reached the base. "Ya a'right though?"

"Sleep." She sighed out, the line going dead.

"Who was that?" Jack asked, his voice near a whisper.

"Kitten." He replied, tossing his phone onto the table and letting his shoulders slump. "She's supposed ta be mah donor, but she works for one of the Blood Houses and apparently got called in."

"She the blonde haired, six foot tall chick with the runner's build?" Jack's curious tone caused Aster to shake his head in confusion. His brows knitted together as he stared at Jack, who shrugged. "I saw you bite her in an alley."

He cocked a brow at Jack. "And how did ya see that?"

Jack shrugged, taking on an innocent look. "I wasn't stalking you or anything…"

Aster chuckled. "Oh really? Ya felt the need ta stalk me?"

"Hey, what can I say? Your ass is amazing from the back and it had nothing to do with you, I just so happening to be going the same direction." Then Jack tilted his head and gazed backwards towards him with a smirk. "I gotta say though, watching you feed from her was extremely hot."

"M'yea?" Aster replied, leaning forward. "Glad ya liked the show."

"Would have liked it more if it was me you were feeding from, though." Jack quipped and then turned around in his arms.

Aster found himself speechless as Jack leaned forward, closing the distance between them and brushing their lips together with a heated gaze to those brown depths. Aster's hands clenched where they had strayed too, his right on the back of the booth while his left was gripping the very edge. He felt Jack's hot breath on his lips.

"Jack…" He drawled out. "Ya don't—"

"I did this, Aster." Jack stated harshly even though his voice was husky. "Let me fix it."

He struggled with himself. The logical half of his brain was telling him to avoid this, push Jack off of him and _run_ before he cocked this day up for Jack anymore than he already had. Yet his primal side was _dying_ to taste him. To see if that chilly, mint kissed, scent of his traversed through his bloodstream as well.

"Jack…Ah don't know—"

He found himself moaning as Jack pressed their lips together. He was frozen for a moment, fearing what he might do to Jack while he was hungry and desperate for blood, before he felt his logical brain click off. He turned Jack's tentative kiss into a heated, dominating, kiss that had Jack leaning back and breathing heavily when Aster let him withdraw. Hearing Jack's labored breathing was turning him on and he found that he couldn't stand the pounding headache anymore. He sighed in relief as he let his canines lengthen. He glanced up to Jack, who had sucked in a sharp breath, and saw his glowing green gaze reflected in his brown depths. He snaked his hands onto Jack's thighs, gripping them and then lifting Jack up and adjusting his position in a quick movement that had Jack pinned between the table and his chest.

Jack gazed at him, his body shaking slightly from fear. Aster shook his head, leaning back.

"Ah don't think we should do this." He stated, running his tongue over his teeth. He tried to clamp down on his raging thirst that was an inferno of heat. "Mate, we haven't even finished our first date."

Jack, instead of responding, cupped Aster's jaw with both his hands and gently wriggled his thumbs under Aster's upper lip. He felt the pads of Jack's thumbs press and then gently rub along his elongated canines. Jack shuddered when he opened his mouth to allow him a better view of his fangs. He watched Jack's gaze, seeing the mixture of emotions that churned in his brown eyes. Fear was only a glimmer before it was replaced with curiosity, bliss and then finally settled on outright desire.

He let go of Jack's waist, cupping his hands with his and staring up to those eyes. He couldn't believe he was about to do this.

He guided Jack's hands away from his face and wriggled himself so he sat a little straighter in his seat and had a better angle at getting to Jack's tantalizing throat. When he felt the positioning was right he leaned forward as he kept their hands entwined. He at first brushed Jack's lips with his, only slipping the edge of his tongue out to run it along Jack's lower lip. He heard Jack swallow nervously before Jack closed the distance and enveloped his tongue in his mouth. He released Jack's hands with that, slipping his right hand onto Jack's waist while tracing a feathery touch along Jack's spine with his left that had him arching and gasping, which broke their kiss again, but Aster kept his lips close to Jack's—both of them smirking towards one another.

"It might—will—hurt." He whispered, their lips brushing.

"I can handle it." Jack shot back cockily, his eyes opening and looking to him. "I trust you not to hurt me."

He nodded, pressing their lips together again in another heated kiss. This time, though, he made sure to explore Jack's mouth, running his tongue over everything within the confines of that mouth while expertly caressing Jack's tongue with his own when their paths crossed, leading the kiss so that Jack wouldn't nick his sharp fangs. He gingerly gripped the base of Jack's head as he finished ravishing Jack's mouth and gently sucked on his lower lip before he trailed his lips downward, nipping at the man's jaw. He spent a surprising amount of time running his blunt teeth over it, marveling in the shape and feel of it before he trailed below it. He glanced up to Jack to see his face. Jack's eyes were closed, his brows knitted together while he gently worried his lower lip as a blush glowed across his cheeks. His nostrils flared with each panting breath and his face flaunted his need for Aster's bite. He grinned devilishly, trailing his lips on a continued path to Jack's throat where he himself moaned in a mixture of relief and anticipation when he reached his destination.

He felt one last throb from the vein below his lips. He teasingly ran his fangs along the throbbing vein, eliciting a deep and drawn out moan from Jack. He shuddered himself at that sound as it emanated from Jack's chest and out through his throat. It was also his breaking point.

He bit down, his hands tightening on Jack as his hot blood hit his tongue. He groaned as he swallowed down that first mouthful and relished in the knowledge that Jack did, in fact, have that chilled and minty taste laced throughout his blood. He lost himself in the taste of Jack, the hunger rising to the surface and blocking out anything other than the man in his arms and the pleasure that Jack took from his bite as he swallowed down the man's heated life affirming liquid. He found himself lifting his hips and grinding against Jack, eliciting a shout of euphoric pleasure from him as his hands tightened on his shoulders. He growled possessively realizing it was something he'd never done with a donor before, along with the grinding, and this realization jarred him from his meal. Luckily, he had fed enough to tide him over for the next month even if it only felt as if seconds had passed to him.

He retracted his fangs, running his tongue over the two puncture wounds at Jack's throat while he grabbed a napkin from the table. He leaned back, relief washing itself through him as the hunger subsided—at last, he could think straight. After a few moments, most of which Aster spent keeping the napkin pressed to Jack's throat, he slowly lifted an edge and gazed at _his_ marks. He jolted again at that strange, unidentifiable but purely instinctual, claim. He covered Jack's throat, glancing up at him.

"Ya a'right?" He asked, his tone holding how anxious he was at how suddenly possessive he was of Jack.

Jack nodded, his breathing finally calming. "Holy shit, Aster. That was amazing."

Aster snorted in disgust. "Creatures of seduction, Jack. Fer those of us that can't dip into minds we need ta entice and distract, turning that nip at yer throat into pleasure."

"I think I'd like it even without the help of stimulation." Jack murmured with a breathy chuckle. "How long are the marks going to be there?"

Aster lifted the napkin, relieved when most of the bleeding had halted. "Probably fer a few days. Ah'm goin' ta get the first aid kit…and Ah wouldn't say a word of this ta North, but that man's got the bloody eyes of an Eagle and he'll see it even faster if ya try ta hide it."

Aster stood after setting Jack back onto the booth's chair. He came back quickly with the first aid kit and had even stopped to grab himself a glass of blood since he could now digest it properly. He finished placing a large band aid on Jack's throat, leaned back in the booth, threw his left arm over Jack's form and was content to sit there staring at the now blue screen above his bar while Jack cuddled into his side and fell asleep. He glanced at Jack, his nerves shooting to the forefront of his mind as he tried to figure out why he suddenly felt so possessive of the man.

**Pitch**

Pitch glanced around the warehouse that Drake had recently purchased seven months ago. It was, most likely, a way for him to inflate his already larger than his lifespan ego. It was here that Pitch remembered every moment of that haunting night when he stood by to watch as Drake committed genocide. He glanced at the recently re-done marble flooring, and yes Drake had wanted marble flooring, and could identify the exact spot where Drake's boot pushed down with his full weight and popped Thomas Overland's head like an egg. In fact, Pitch stepped forward five paces, took a quick right step and glanced up. He blinked at the fluorescent lighting fixture, narrowing his eyes before looking down and seeing the shadow below his feet mimic the form of Thomas Overland's corpse like a filled in chalk outline.

He shifted the shadow from the form and stepped from the location, gazing around the fairly open area of the warehouse. Mostly, it was marble floor only marred by one or two bits of furniture. For example to the right was a television surrounded by a sectional couch. Along that side was a closed off office-like room with walls that held large windows so that one could gaze out over the warehouse's expansive floor. Opposite of the office was a metal staircase that Pitch had spent a month yelling at the construction company about. Finally, though, the spiraling staircase was the right type and color that Drake had wanted. It lead to a metal railing that acted as an overlooking second floor where anyone with half a brain would put men with weapons—which he was sure Drake was planning.

Pitch glanced to where he stood, noticing the heavy chains that were bolted into the marble flooring. There were about four sets on the ground, each a certain distance apart, while another six lined the walls where he had no doubt Drake planned on hanging people. He shook his head, turning from his thoughts and stepping forward towards the staircase that was hidden below the metal door that looked like it led to an underground tornado shelter. He reached the bottom of the stairs there and stared in disgust at the lavish bedroom below. Pitch didn't even _want_ to know what this was going to be used for.

Shaking his head he stepped from below, closed and latched the door then headed for the entrance to the warehouse. He stepped outside, sliding the heavy metal door in place and setting the bolt before locking the pad lock. He then stepped to the shadows to the right, waiting for a mere second before he stepped into the shadows.

Normally, for others, this realm was something of chaos. He had been told once by Sandy that this place was pitch black to others of their kind. There was literally no light for them in this realm and the ground was impossible to get footing in. Sandy had said that the ground shifted about like sand while it dipped and waved like the Ocean in extreme heights. To Pitch however, this place felt more real to him than the world he lived in. He saw _everything_ in this realm, as dank and musty as the place appeared. He found comfort in the shadows and the gray tinted walls of a City that looked like it was sinking into the blackness of the world. He also noted, with curiosity, that this world seemed to beckon specifically to _him_. The paths bared themselves to him like a lover. He knew which road to take when he needed to get somewhere, which was why he was able to traverse the entire planet in but moments.

That was exactly why he went from stepping into a shadow from across the City to stepping out into his office second later. He glanced around his office, stepping forward towards his bar to get himself a glass of blood while he glanced at the setting sun. He heard the door open to his office and he glanced that way before his secretary, Laura, let out a surprised scream. He straightened with an apologetic look, forgetting that Drake had moved Laura from the lobby to up here as his personal secretary.

"Mr. Black you scared the life out of me." Laura breathed out, one of her surprisingly delicate hands going to her breast. He cocked his head, listening to her heartbeat slowing from the frantic pace it had been in as he milled over the last name he was currently going by in Drake's company. "When did you sneak by me?"

He cleared his throat and gave her a light smile. "But moments ago. I apologize, I tend to walk lightly when I'm thinking."

Laura laughed, the sound similar to bells. "Well, Mr. Black, Mr. Drake says he'll be in by nightfall."

"Thank you." He stated, panic shooting through him when he realized nightfall was within the next hour. "Why don't you take the rest of the day off? You deserve it."

Laura's brows rose. "Really? I can stay, you know—"

"No, no!" Pitch urged, stepping forward and gently taking the folder Laura had been holding and leading her to the door. He wanted her _out_ of Drake's path whenever he could manage it. "Go on, I don't want to see you back here until tomorrow morning."

Laura chuckled. "Alright, alright! I'm going!" Laura went to her desk, opened the bottom drawer and dug her purse out. She then went over to him and went up on her toes, giving his cheek a light kiss. "Thank you. I can go visit my mother in the hospital for an extra hour."

"You're welcome." He replied wheezily, stunned that he let her get away with that.

He watched her walk away, his lecherous eyes locking onto her swaying hips before the door closed behind her and he had forty five minutes of peace before Drake would show up to annoy him. He immediately went over to his bar, having an unsettling feeling of dread settling on his shoulders as he poured himself a healthy glass of blood and draining it quickly. He rinsed out the glass, leaving it to dry on the counter as the sun set below the horizon and the doors to his office opened to Drake.

At first Pitch didn't recognize him, which was understandable considering the man had changed his looks again. His hair was cut short, dyed a honey blonde color that suited his steeled Angelic looks. His brown eyes were a glowing red, which told Pitch that Drake was furious with him. Drake had chosen to wear a pressed white long sleeved colored shirt, simple black dress pants and polished black shoes on his feet. He had also shaven his beard off completely, baring to the world a chin that sported an innocent looking dimple.

"Drake, you're warehouse is fully furnished and ready for use." He relayed, picking up the folder he had placed on the bar and going to Drake to hand it to him.

"Oh is it? Well, that's good news at least." Drake stated, managing to sound bored. "We'll be needing it tonight."

"Oh really?" Pitch replied, cocking a brow. "Why would we need it tonight?"

Pitch blinked, and in the amount of time it took to initiate the blink Drake's fist had shot out and cracked into his jaw. The sick popping sound that echoed through the office sounded pathetic compared to what Pitch heard in his head as bones and cartilage in his jaw snapped, cracked and popped. He cracked into his bar—again—and eventually through it as he shouted out in pain when the glass counter impaled into his side when he smacked into the wall with a resounding crack and buckling of the paneling. Pitch sucked in a sharp breath between his teeth, cursing Drake for ruining yet _another_ bar he had just bought and had replaced. Pitch was relieved though with his decision to drink the glass of blood earlier; it was helping heal him quicker than if he had neglected it.

He pried the foot long piece of glass from his side and ground his teeth when he tossed it aside. He glared towards his sire and wondered if Drake had decided to go with that angelic look to throw off his enemies. Pitch tensed suddenly with a startling revelation. _Who_ had been the cause of Drake's identity change?

"Pitch I happened to have followed around those Guardians as they visited the local Carnival the other day, and you want to know what I happened to see?" Drake asked, raising his taloned hand and beginning to pick at the claws.

"I'm assuming clowns, acrobats and the Guardians acting like children." He made sure to keep his tone even, not sarcastic.

"Actually, Pitch," Drake stepped forward, that hand he had been examining shooting out and gripping Pitch's throat tightly, "I happened to see a lick of frost along the Australian's sleeve. _I_ wonder how that could have happened?"

Pitch was relieved when Drake dropped him, but only after tossing him to his desk. Luckily, though, his desk remained unharmed aside from a mere rattling. He turned, leaning against his desk as Drake's red eyes dimmed to their usual brown.

"Maybe he had a power fluctuation?" He suggested. "Let's not jump to conclusions, Drake. If Jack _has_ his powers genetically then there's a chance he could _accidentally_ send out a frosting without realizing it. Just because he has a flash of power doesn't mean he remembers anything."

"I somehow doubt that." Drake murmured. "If that was the case then why did the boy go through twenty two years of showing no signs of it?"

"He wasn't emotionally compromised?" Pitch shrugged. "Was there something at the Carnival that happened where he might have been panicked?"

He watched Drake for a moment, his sire freezing all movement before he started again and reached his right hand into his pocket and producing his cell phone. "Perhaps. The Australian was walking away from him at a fairly good pace."

"Perhaps he was upset with whatever happened between the two. Maybe Aster turned down a proposition and it upset him." Pitch suggested this with an air of caution. "Like I said, Drake, if we jump to conclusions then we run into trouble."

"Let's just _avoid_ the trouble, then, shall we?" Drake put the phone to his ear. "Diana, I need you to come to Pitch's office and quickly please."

Pitch scoffed, watching as Drake placed the phone back in his pocket after hanging up. He watched his sire turn and face him. Drake's eyes lit again with that red glow before it vanished.

"Pitch, you're a very competent employee and an even better childe, but I'm not going to take anymore unnecessary risks when it pertains to you and the Frost Hunter." Drake took a step forward menacingly. "But I feel you may sometimes require someone to hold your hand."


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer**: Any and all characters from Rise of the Guardians are copyright of DreamWorks. I created Drake, Doug, Diana and Laura (and possibly anyone else) to act as plot points so they are my creations.

To my reviewers:

To **Kayla** (again...I heart you for your reviews haha): Firstly, you will have to wait for me to weave my tale. Secondly, yea...I didn't think this story was actually going to turn into a Jack and Bunny thing...then I just couldn't toss it aside when I started thinking about it about the 2nd rewrite haha. Surprised the hell out of my editor though, that much I can say...I should have had a camera her face was priceless. Anyways, thank you for your constant reviews! Also thanks for calling this a gem!

To **ieatlorriesforbreakfast**: Next update is tonight and there will be more Jack/Bunny soon, I swear! I just need to figure out where I want to add it in.

Finally to **Alternateapocalypse**: Holy shitballs, thank you! You have no idea how much I needed that compliment right now. Like I'm literally flattered! Your congrats is well noted and I will pass it on to my editor who deserves it as well for looking over and knit picking EVERYTHING.

Anyways onto my A/N now: So...interesting last few weeks. Fixed editors computer (hardrive went ka-put, surprisingly easy fix there), my best friend handed me an ultimatum I just didn't want to deal with so I lost one of my three best friends and to top it all off this shitstorm ended with me losing the first job I had in 5 years. Boo-fucking-hiss life, you suck. So, you guy's wanna be my friends? Keep leaving those **_reviews_****_! _**I love them. As for updates? I'm going to try for 2 weeks again, but let's see what life throws at me now to stall me. Till then!

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**Chapter 8**: The Observers

**Pitch**

Pitch, of late, had noticed that Drake was getting exponentially more distracted by his worry over Jack, and it became so bad that Drake had _literally_ given him a sire based command to attend a meeting in Pitch's office tonight after he had spent twenty minutes debating with Drake about Jack's presence. Pitch had been in a calm denial of Jack's threat to Drake, and was showing great resistance towards his sire in this action because in all honesty he believed Drake was making an Ocean out of a rain drop when it came to Jack. He had also taken notice to the fact that Drake had been spending more and more time within Pitch's office. It was beginning to get annoying to not be able to leave the office or return to it without bumping into Drake. It was becoming so tiresome that it was beginning to grate on Pitch's last nerve and when he attended the meeting he would find it harder and harder to keep his tongue in check. Sure, he was tired of doing the same song and dance yearly and was beginning to thirst for freedom from Drake, but all of Drake's outbursts towards Jack was beginning to rile Pitch's long buried temper. Of course the presence of Diana didn't help those matters any, along with Drake's foreboding threat of needing someone to hold _his_ hand. Pitch had to admit, that was the phrase that took the cake for him.

However when Pitch stepped into his office that night he immediately had a musing thought pop into his head as he took in Drake and Diana. There was a saying for situations like this one. That moment where one was literally stuck between a rock, Diana, and a hard place, Drake—essentially to sum it up, he was _fucked_. Pitch was currently smack dab in the middle of the two in his office, both of them seeming to inadvertently block his escape routes to his shadowed realm, and he found himself eager to escape from the confines of his own office and into the familiar shadows of _his_ realm. It was there that he didn't have to deal with Drake and his bond, nor did he have to deal with Diana—who he absolutely disdained. If not for the command ringing through his body, he'd have already used his long legs to carry himself across those ten feet to get to the particularly shadowed section of his office, but Drake had pushed a command towards him to stay in place and his insufferable sire had also made sure to stay _right_ in the way.

Pitch had to admit, he was beginning to get annoyed with that sire bond. It had ruled him from time to time through his life when he was normally resilient to make any rash actions against something or someone as the high of being a fledgling wore off after a hundred years. Drake would use that bond as a way to control him, and he believed he wasn't going to go a night without it during this entire ordeal thanks to his _damn _conscience those seventeen years ago when he had brainwashed Jack and sent him on his veiled way. He mentally kicked himself for that, even if he didn't regret doing it—he didn't think he could handle another child's death on his conscience. But Pitch couldn't wait for the day he escaped from the insufferable bond—but he had to be smart about it and bide his time. He'd spent close to four hundred years under the thing, what were another couple of years? He could have a tantrum later about the sire bond, for now he needed to calm down and collected himself. It was here that he once again slapped that emotionless face of his on and made sure to keep his voice neutral. He had to act this out carefully before he relayed whatever he knew to the only beings who _might_ be able to set him free.

It didn't escape him how ironic it was that he, just as the Humans, was going to become reliant on the Guardians _attempting_ to protect him as he found a way to free himself from Drake's bond—or convince them to let him temporarily join them soon as it faltered altogether. As the meeting began Pitch made mental notes for a later date should he ever need—or happen too—break free early from Drake's bond. For instance Pitch had already noted that Drake knew where to stand to bar him from his shadow realm.

_ He's been spending too much time in my office as of late_. Pitch thought to himself as he urged his muscles to move, yet they stayed as still as that of a statue's. _He knows which section of my office I keep encased in shadows and he's strategically blocked it every time he's came in of late_.

Pitch also noticed something _severely_ irritating, albeit immature in its realization: Diana always seemed to be excused from the sire bond. He couldn't ever remember Drake having to _force_ Diana to do anything. It made him wonder why Drake put up with him—especially of late. He vaguely wondered why Drake had kept him alive so long if he had to resort to the bond like this in order to control him. Pitch supposed that it had something to do with how useful he was when it came to powers. He controlled the shadows, summoned them as weapons in a darkly glittering pile of malleable sand and could go from Burgess to Russia in but five steps through his realm. It had proven to be a useful skill for Drake when Pitch had been _more_ than willing to do his bidding while he was an arrogant, idiotic, fledgling. Hell, he had made a _name_ for himself from those years: the Boogeyman, and to this day that name still reigned true—people were _still_ scared of the shadows. But, as of late, he was beginning to feel little aspects of his old self return as the sire bond wavered between him and Drake—it was the cause to Drake's current problem: Jack. The bond, though, would always be there but Drake would eventually lose the control he had over Pitch—and _that_ was when Pitch expected to be killed in a fashion similar to Caesar.

Until that bond broke, though, Pitch was still useful—in more ways than just his powers as he juggled Drake's company without so much as a complaint—and until that wore out he simply had to bid his time under his abusive, business minded, insane, sire. Unfortunately, that meant literally almost having to bite his tongue off to keep from being a clipped smart ass as the meeting began.

Pitch glanced over to Diana when she cleared her throat. He gazed towards her outfit, a simple black revealing top paired with a pair of bright red shorts with strapped heels on her feet. She looked exactly like she lived: available. After coming to this conclusion about her attire he found her gaze turned to him and that annoying corner of her lip quirked up. He knew what was coming, and most likely so did Drake since he knew Pitch didn't particularly like Diana, which was why Pitch was currently forced to stay in place thanks to another command given by Drake soon as he entered his own office.

"I see he had to control you through the sire bond." Diana mused, amusement thick in her voice as he sent a glare towards her. It was her way of reminding him that she had never been put under it, mainly because she was so good at following Drake's orders and pleasing the man with her just as insane actions. It was similar to siblings fighting, she always knew how to get under his skin, mocking how he was put under the sire commands periodically while she remained always free from the commands, and that was a decent reason to why he hated her along with her other less-than amazing habits. "Pitch, do you ever willingly do anything anymore?"

"Not for this particular situation." Pitch replied, having enough ability to shrug and speak. "I believe this entire endeavor is one that you both are blowing completely out of proportion. Jack isn't a Hunter, nor is he a Vampire or a Guardian. He's a neutral party, he isn't going to do anything if you just leave him be."

Drake's head turned, his gaze snapping to Pitch's. He watched those eyes gleam a bright red again.

"You honestly think this is nothing, don't you?" Drake asked, stepping forward and getting near Pitch. "Do you remember about twenty years ago when you had fallen into your death sleep in this very office? How I had walked in just _moments_ before Thomas Overland tried to take your head?"

Pitch felt a flash of fury from that little reminder of how Jack's father had almost taken his head before Drake came in and saved him, but as he gazed at the panicked look in Drake's eyes he realized in those fleeting moments that Jack did, in fact, scare him. He found himself curious. What was so special about Jack? Sure he could control frost, which made Pitch wonder about the kid's family heritage, but he was a bumbling buffoon with that magic. He was inept, and if Thomas was an example to go by, he would remain that way until he was too old to do anything about their kind. Sure, Thomas _tried_ to hunt them and had turned it into something successful, but he hadn't become _efficient_ at it till his fifties when he finally gained control of his powers—and even then he had only successfully hunted them for five years before Drake's boot met his head.

Honestly, Pitch didn't see the cause for all the fuss. Unless…

"You're worried about your credibility as a businessman, aren't you?" Pitch stated suddenly.

Drake's eyes gleamed dangerously. "By which you mean?"

Pitch smirked, realizing he caught Drake by the short and curlies. "Well let's think about this for a moment, shall we? You run this City like it's a business. Every Vampire that has been created in the last twenty years has been at _your_ hand. You set bans on anyone who turns a Vampire without your say so because it loosens your hold on this City." Pitch narrowed his eyes at Drake. "The idea that after making that little show of taking out the Hunters who were your only strong opponents had failed then you may very well find yourself in a City where rebellion is plentiful and you lose that _tight_ hold you have on this City's economy—sire bonds or not. Your own Vampires, the ones you made the show of protecting, would realize they had entrusted themselves into the hands of a man who couldn't successfully destroy an opposing force. Essentially, you're little slip up in giving me a indirect command could be your downfall and the only reason you haven't killed me for that slip up is due to you realizing that it was _your_ fault and you're so resistant to leave _your_ mistake alive because it mars that perfect businessman image you have."

Drake glanced away, a dark smirk curling his lips. Pitch felt himself puff up a little when he realized that was an admission to his words…at least until Drake turned around, his eyes their normal color.

"Actually, Pitch, the simple fact of the matter is that I don't like loose ends, especially when those loose ends could end in my decapitation." Drake turned to Diana. "Now, shall we get this little show on the road?"

"What show?" Pitch clamped down on the growling anger that wanted to come out as he kept his voice neutral, hating that he hadn't beaten Drake at his little game. He had _sworn_ Drake's role in this charade had to do with the business aspect, not a personal vendetta against a Human run hunting group. However, no matter how calm and collected Pitch was he was still an imbecile at fleeting moments as he asked with a scathing tone, "Are you _really_ that scared of a boy?!"

Drake and Diana both halted their conversation they had begun. Drake turned his gaze to Pitch, glancing at him up and down before scoffing.

"Scared of a boy? No. Scared of the prodigal son of a Frost Hunter who massacred three hundred Vampires in five years once he gained control of his powers? Absolutely. One would have to be stupid to not fear that." Drake turned back to Diana.

"Dear, we're going to take a trip to Manny's and Pitch is going to come with us." Pitch blinked, realizing _that_ was why Drake had changed his looks. Pitch stared at the two, glaring as Drake held out his arm for Diana. "Come Pitch, and not a word to the Guardians about what we are doing."

"And what, exactly, are we doing?" Pitch kept an even tone as he said this, following them while his body stepped forward of its own accord. If he had a chance to _ever_ escape the bloody bond he'd do it in a heartbeat. "Also, is that why you brought back the _old_ Drake? The very man that I haven't seen since the first time I woke as a Vampire?"

Drake nodded. "I am well aware that only Sandy knows my true face, but I will do my best to avoid _that_ particular burden." Pitch rolled his eyes as Drake nabbed up the pair of thick rimmed glasses from his male secretary Doug when he opened the office door.

"Glasses aren't going to hide—" Pitch gasped in amazement as Drake's form rippled and changed his facial features ever so slightly—just enough to change his looks subtly. "…How did you find Fae magic?"

"I have my connections." Drake murmured easily enough. "Now, let's go see if a certain Frost Hunter knows what his friends are. Pitch, you are to remain silent."

He ground his teeth, nodding as the command settled itself into his bones. He wondered if there was some way he could make North, or maybe even Sandy, realize that something was up since he was unable to speak. For a brief moment he tried to desperately think of a way to warn them when he smirked quickly as a stroke of genius shot through him before wiping it from his face and turning it into an unreadable mask. He watched Drake's eyes narrow towards him as he slapped that mask into place.

They rode the elevator down to the lobby, the shined copper walls reflecting their images. He vaguely realized that Drake was shorter than Diana by a hair. He, however, towered over both parties at six three. He followed the two from the elevator out to a town car. They climbed in, got to Manny's and immediately headed for the VIP section where Jack worked. As time ticked by he noticed Drake's eyes never actually looked at Jack. No, he was letting Diana do all of his hard work as she grinned to Jack when he dropped off the drinks Drake had ordered and eventually Drake told her to approach Jack.

"What, exactly, do you want me to do?" She asked, smirking.

Drake chuckled. "Try to see if he knows what you are. Also, try to see what's under that turtleneck."

Pitch frowned. It was nearing winter, why _wouldn't _Jack have on a turtleneck? He glanced over at Drake, noting that the eyes on his glasses appeared to be looking towards Pitch's direction, but behind those lenses Drake's eyes were locked onto Jack. He turned his own gaze back, his eyes widening when he saw North. Pitch began to look as if he was fiddling his hands on the table. To Drake it may have just looked as if he was messing with the glass in front of him, but if North or even Sandy noticed it they would recognize the slow precise motions of sign language.

**Jack**

Jack checked the clock over Tooth's bar and stared at it. He still had an hour left of work and he was _really_ beginning to feel worn out and tired. Everything was taking a little bit more oomph than was necessary and his eyes were beginning to droop of their own accord. He yawned as soon as he got to Tooth's bar and set the metal platter on the back near the cash register before he leaned back into it with another yawn.

He opened his eyes after the wide yawn and found Tooth gazing warily towards him. He cocked a brow at her before she scrunched her nose up and stared intently at him for a brief moment before she turned back around to mix more drinks. He glanced towards the VIP room patrons and then glared at the woman who sat with Pitch. Her name: Diana. Occupation? Bothering the bejesus out of him, apparently. As if she felt his eyes on her she perked up and waved towards him.

He grimaced, turning from facing her and leaning his back along Tooth's bar so he didn't have to look at her…that and ignoring her damn reflection in the mirror behind the bar was easier than staring straight at her. His eyes roamed to her again and he choked when she cracked her legs open. His first instinct was to slap his hand over his mouth to avoid puking; his second was to sink down below the bar in an exhausted heap. Tooth chuckled lightly above him before she nudged him with her foot.

"I've got another round for you to deliver." She told him. "Come on, Jack, what's the matter with you?"

"I might be coming down with something?" He fumbled in response, turning it into a ditzy question instead in his attempt to keep her from knowing that he'd donated about two pints of blood to Aster earlier today. That and his neck was beginning to itch like a bitch under the large band aid he had covering Aster's puncture marks. The turtleneck Jack was wearing under his work shirt was doing well in hiding the band aid, and the fact that it smelled like Aster was just a plus. "I'll just make sure to get a lot of sleep over the next two days."

Tooth's brow knitted together in worry before she nodded, seeming to accept that excuse and taking it as a truth. Essentially it was, seeing as he had the next two days off from working thanks to another hire in the form of Claude's brother Caleb—who was oddly friends with Monty that worked the bouncer scene with North. Jack stood after two failed attempts and hauled the platter up into his arms to go deliver the drinks to their patrons. He made it quick, returning to slump again behind Tooth's bar after he caught Diana's reflection and _immediately_ regretted it.

Jack must have nodded off for a few minutes because the next thing he knew Tooth was shouting 'Last Round!' and a chorus of groans was followed by it. He straightened from his position with a drawn out sigh and pushed himself to his feet. He'd start with clean up now so that whenever North managed to wrangle the stragglers from the club in about half an hour it would cut the amount of work he had to do before he could head home for the night.

He barely noticed North shooing people from the club before he gathered glasses into the large plastic tub he was going to run to Claude in the back, and probably help clean the glasses. He also ignored Diana who had leaned a little too far forward and flashed her panties again before she left. Jack wondered if his face was as green as the vomit he would have tossed up if she had done it _again_ that night. He eventually lugged the tub into the back after collecting the VIP room's glasses. Claude's eyes roved him up and down with a questioning look.

"Jack, you look pale. You okay, bud?" He asked, sounding genuinely worried.

"I'm fine." He nodded with a quick, but weak, grin. "Just need some sleep."

"Well you make damn sure you get some." Claude told him, eyeing him warily just like Tooth had.

He nodded, stepping from the kitchen to go gather the glasses from the main floor. He closed his eyes in another yawn and covered it with his hand before he bumped into North. He muttered an apology as he stepped around him. He groaned when North's heavy hand landed on his shoulder.

"Jack, you look ill." North stated.

Jack huffed. "I know, you're the third person to tell me tonight." His tone took on a clipped and irritated one. "Can I finish cleaning up so I can go home and get to bed?"

North's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Jack rolled his eyes and started walking away, hiking the empty tub up into his side and shuffling into the main area where he began a brisk cleaning of the dishes there. It took him four to five trips, each trip he noticed Aster gazing worriedly towards him as he cleaned up his bar. He sent a tentative smile towards Aster, which he returned with an anxious look before Jack walked from the area to deliver the glasses to the back. He hefted the last tub onto the kitchen's counter by the sink where Claude told him to head home.

He nodded absently and headed for the employee's exit where he was going to be lazy, like the last few days, and hail a cab—that was until he felt Aster's hand on his forearm. Turning to face him, Jack's eyes brightened with a smile on his face as Aster waved Tooth's keys in front of him.

"C'mon, Ah'm going ta take ya home." Aster said, leading him to Tooth's car and opening the passenger door for him.

"You do know I can open a door, right?" Jack asked as Aster climbed into the driver's seat and swore at how close Tooth had her seat to the steering wheel. It was almost comical the way Aster's legs had been bent up near the steering wheel before he pushed the seat back a little.

"Ah know, but yer acting like Sleeping Beauty." Aster jostled with the seat more for a moment before he pushed it back far enough. "Bloody hell ya'd think a midget drove this car."

Jack snorted out a laugh. "Well…Tooth _is_ kinda short."

"She's average!" Aster shot back. "She's five six, maybe five seven! Why the hell is she so close ta the bloody pedals?!"

Jack winced when he heard the telltale 'thump' of Aster's foot against the flooring. Jack raised a confused brow when Aster let out another swear.

"Forgot it's a bloody automatic." He murmured sheepishly.

"Wait…" Jack found himself racked with laughter. "So you thought there was a clutch?"

Aster nodded. "Ah only drive manuals."

"Why? Like being a controlling bastard?" Jack smiled mirthfully.

"Ah do, actually." He then pulled from the parking spot, halting the car at the exit of the back parking lot and then waggled his brows towards Jack. "Ah think Ah remember ya liking me being a controlling bastard earlier today."

Jack's cheeks flushed for a brief moment before he looked away, his memory of Aster feeding from him earlier today enticing him. He gulped when he glanced over to see Aster's eyes, though directed on the streets in front of him, had taken on a glittering glow. He then noticed Aster rolled the windows down slightly and cleared his throat. Jack smiled stupidly to himself after he covered his mouth with his hand.

"So, what're ya doing tomorrow on yer day off?" Aster asked, sending him a sideways glance before his gaze went back to the road.

Jack listened to the wind outside for a brief moment before he shrugged. "Probably going to meet Jamie for lunch, like usual, and then study."

"Thrilling." Aster murmured.

"Well what do you expect?" Jack asked, perplexed. "I'm not exactly the most thrilling person in the world."

Aster shrugged. "Ah'm just sayin' maybe ya could play hookie again…"

Jack straightened in his seat. "And do what?"

Aster frowned. "Ah haven't got that far yet."

Jack chuckled. "Well…maybe at four you and I can go to the grocery store? I've got to pick up a few things for Mrs. Bennett since she's busy all day tomorrow."

Aster glanced at him, stopping the car with another thumping that was related to him searching for a clutch. He watched Aster glare downward for a brief moment before he turned a curious gaze to him.

"Why do ya call yer mum 'Mrs. Bennett'?" Aster asked, accelerating the car with the evident thump before he growled irritably towards himself. "Ah mean, she is technically yer mum, isn't she? Yer last name is Bennett…or at least yer ID says so."

Jack shrugged. "Maybe it's just because I wasn't actually 'adopted' by her until I was in my teens. It was just a habit that never died I guess."

Aster frowned. "Ah bet she'd be fine with ya callin' her 'mum'."

"Mum?" Jack asked, his brows shooting up past the edge of his bangs. "Mum? You want me to call her mum?"

Aster glared towards him. "A'right ya galah Ah'll say it like ya, 'mawm'."

Jack burst out laughing in his seat, curling over into himself and eventually having to wipe tears from his eyes. He glanced over to Aster whose eyes were bright with humor and a smile curved his lips. The moment was broken, though, when Aster halted the car and gazed towards the house.

"A'right Jacky, we're here." He stated and Jack noticed how deflated that admission sounded.

Jack sighed. "Yea, I guess so."

He unbuckled his seat belt and reached for the car door before Aster unbuckled his seat belt as well. Jack stopped, turning sideways as the car turned off. His gaze darted between the ignition and Aster.

"What're you doing?" He asked, genuinely confused.

"Ah'm walkin' ya ta the door ya dill." He muttered as he got from the car, his form suddenly appearing next to Jack and tugging his door open the rest of the way. "Now c'mon, ya need ta get some rest."

Jack nodded and pushed from the car. He heard Abby barking inside the house as his feet in particular made scuffing noises on the doorstep. He dug through his pocket and eventually found his keys, getting the one that unlocked the door and turning it after setting it in the lock's keyhole. He turned to Aster after cracking the door a little and smiled.

"Thanks for the ride home. I was going to holler for a cab." He admitted with a nervous smile. "I've _almost_ got enough saved up for a car."

"Wait…how have ya been gettin' home from work?" Aster asked, his brows knitting together in worry.

"Walking, mostly. Sometimes Jamie swings by to pick me up if he's up, or Sophie if she's in town. But mostly it's walking." He conceded shamefully with a shrug.

"Ya've been _walking_ _home_ fer the past seven months?" He noticed the stricken tone Aster's voice had.

He nodded. "Yep."

Aster gaped at him. "Ah'm gettin' ya a bloody car, mate."

"What?!" He barked, loudly. "No you're not!"

"Ah have one ya can borrow." Aster said looking him up and down. "Ya know how ta drive a manual?"

Jack looked away sheepishly. "No…"

"So it'll be bartending all over again?" Aster pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Probably…" He admitted snickering at the grave tone Aster's voice took on.

Aster sighed, shaking his head with a quick smirk before he turned to head back to Tooth's car. "A'right, goodnight Jack." Jack grinned, nodding and watched as Aster halted for a brief moment before he turned back to Jack and cupped his jaw for a quick kiss to his lips before he withdrew. "Call me before ya go ta the grocery store?"

Jack nodded, his cheeks flushing as he watched Aster amble back to Tooth's car with a little extra skip to his step. Jack walked inside the house after Aster got into the car and locked the door behind him. He gave Abby a few pats before he sluggishly went up to his room. He yanked off the turtleneck and rubbed the band aid on his throat. He winced as he began to pull it off, hissing when he looked at the puncture marks and then jumped six feet in the air when he heard Jamie gasp from next to him.

Jack turned, his eyes wide as Jamie stared at the marks on his neck. Jamie's eyes widened and he turned pale before his mouth fell open.

"Jack…what the hell are those?" He asked faintly.

**North**

"So…what do you guys think is going on with Aster and Jack?" Tooth asked in the sudden quiet of the hallway before each of them went into their designated rooms.

North froze, the bluntness of that statement drawing him back out into the hallway that acted as a throughway for their bedrooms with a smirk adorning his face. "I believe our nervous bunny-lover has found himself a nipping snowflake."

Sandy nodded enthusiastically. _They both seem rather smitten with one another under all their yelling and arguing_.

North chuckled as he nodded his head. "Is neither's fault. Aster is naturally short tempered and Jack would much rather have fun irritating Aster further by flustering him."

North watched as Tooth pursed her lips. She directed her fuchsia gaze towards him and chewed on her lower lip looking as if she wanted to say something but wasn't entirely sure whether she should speak up or not. However, she seemed to have found her voice as she cleared her throat to speak.

"Did Jack seem a little…off tonight? Or was it just me?" North noted her worried tone.

He shrugged. "He seemed lethargic…maybe a little pale, but otherwise he appeared to be alright."

"He told me he was coming down with something." Tooth murmured, making North's eyes widen.

He had been told by Jack earlier that night that he had the common cold that was being passed around campus apparently. North frowned and said, "He told me he had a cold already."

_Told me he __**had**__ a bout of heatstroke that made him a little sick_. Sandy glanced between the three of them. _It's not even summer time, why would he say he had a bout of heat stroke? Let alone why would he lie to all of us?_

North frowned. He had a feeling he knew _exactly_ why Jack would lie to each of them. He had been wondering why he caught the sure scent of Jack's blood in the air when he'd stepped out onto the floor earlier. He had dismissed it at the time, figuring Aster had been teaching Jack a little bartending again from their lull in teaching thanks to Jack's busy schedule with school as the semester drew on, thinking that Jack had cut himself on yet _another _glass he had broken. He then leaned against the doorframe of his room, brows knitting together as he thought about Jack's demeanor earlier. He was showing all the signs of a new donor who had donated too much; unaware of the damage he could have done to himself due to inexperience. He barely heard Tooth discussing with Sandy about Jack as he thought about how good Aster looked tonight compared to last night. Last night Aster looked unwell again, due to the sunlight he had too much of at the Carnival. Tonight he looked bushy tailed and bright eyed. In the course of moments North was both irate with Aster for probably taking too much from Jack, yet relieved because Jack was willing and not squeamish in donating to Aster if he needed it. North directed his steely gaze towards Tooth and Sandy.

"Do either of you know if he got in contact with his donor, Kitten?" North asked, having met the woman the last time she dropped by to feed Aster. She seemed nice enough, and North admired how much Aster tipped her each time she dropped by. But he had asked the question as a way to prove his hunch right. "Or do either of you know if he happened to visit the Blood House to get a donor?"

_I was awake most of yesterday morning, which is usually when Kitten drops by, and I didn't see her_. Sandy shrugged. _Maybe she dropped by when Jack arrived? I went to bed as soon as I saw Jack walking around at Aster's bar_.

Tooth nodded. "Yea, I went to bed shortly after I heard Aster berate Jack about kicking his shoes off. But otherwise Aster would have asked me to borrow my car to go to the Blood House…not to mention with Jack arriving he wasn't going to risk leaving and being late to greet Jack."

North harrumphed, that was all the answers he needed. "I believe we need to have chat with Aster about _feeding_ from Jack—and another talk about relationships with Humans."

Tooth's eyes widened. "Why?"

_Is it because he's the son of that Thomas Overland guy, from seventeen some years ago? _Sandy stated, looking worried. _Not to mention what Pitch told me awhile ago when he dropped by to ensure he had a room reserved months ago._

"What did Pitch tell you and why didn't you say anything?" North asked, his tone turning suspicious as the conversation derailed for a moment.

_He told me that Drake was watching us._ Sandy admitted, shrugging. _If you think about it, that's fairly normal so why would I mention it? Why wouldn't he watch us? Especially since he seems to have a vendetta against me in particular._

"But why would he watch us?" Tooth questioned, blinking. "We aren't doing anything—"

"We are." North cut in. "We are outright ignoring most of his requests when it comes to rules, especially Aster and I since we have personally stopped _many_ of Drake's men from feeding on innocents inside this very club and outside when we happen across them. Not to mention I have a feeling he is to blame for our missing supplier."

Sandy nodded, brows knitting. _Do you think—_ North watched as Sandy's eyes widened in fear before they darted up to him, his mouth gaping open. _He was here last night with Pitch!_

"What?!" North barked, surprised that Drake had got past him. "How?!"

_That man with Pitch, the new guy you mentioned in passing as we cleaned up the club? I __**thought**__he looked familiar._ Sandy shook his head, nose scrunching in disgust. _Why is he __**actively**__ coming in here? He __**hates**__ this place with a passion. He's tried to shut us down about twelve times since we started_.

North nodded grimly. "He must be looking for something."

"Or someone…" Tooth chimed in, blinking wide eyes. "Didn't that Overland guy cause problems for Drake?"

"Problems? Try hunted and killed about three hundred of his bloody men." Aster interjected suddenly, gazing warily between each of them. "What's with the shin-dig in the hallway, mates?" He then gasped. "Ahhh, Ah see how it is. Ya decide ta—"

North narrowed his eyes to Aster and interrupted him. "Do you know who Jack is, Aster?"

"Aye, Ah am the one that hired him." Aster crossed his arms and glared towards North. "He's Jackson Bennett."

"Don't play dumb, Aster." North loomed towards him menacingly.

He had made sure each word was accompanied with him slowly leaning forward until he was in Aster's face, which caused him to take a tentative step back before he bared his teeth towards him. "Yea, Ah bloody know who he is."

"Who is he?" North pressed, wanting to hear Aster admit it himself.

"He's the son of Overland, that Frost Hunter bloke." He glared at North. His tone, though, betrayed that steely glare as it wavered while he asked: "What's that matter?"

North leaned back, shaking his head. "We are unsure of yet, but it can't bode well for us." He then sent an appraising look towards Aster as he stated, "Aster, you look well tonight."

He watched his friend shrug. "Ah feel better." His brow raised as he looked between each of them with a baffled look before it became wary again and he barked in a biting tone: "What the hell is _actually_ about?!"

"You fed from Jack, didn't you?" Tooth blurted, surprised with her sudden outburst she slapped her hands to her mouth while Aster's eyes widened in his own surprise.

North, choosing to clamp down on the laughter that wanted to escape him as Aster imitated a fish with his gaping mouth opening and closing before he blurted: "How did ya—?"

"Aster how could you?" Tooth chastised, socking his bicep and making him wince and rub the spot. "He had to _work_ like that tonight!"

"Oi, it wasn't like Ah didn't try ta persuade him away from it, ya bleedin' harpy!" Aster griped, glaring towards Tooth while he feverently rubbed the spot she punched. "Ah told him Ah was going ta be a'right, but then he laid that guilty look of his on me and made me feel like Ah kicked a bloody puppy when Ah told him about the Carnival…Ah'm in trouble, aren't Ah?"

North sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Dah, Aster. We may be in trouble."

"How?" Aster asked with an anxious tone. "How exactly are we in trouble?"

"Well, Jack may be in trouble." They all jumped when a clipped English accent suddenly broke through the hallway.

North had his dagger pulled from its sheath and at Pitch's throat fast, but not nearly fast enough before Pitch stepped right back into the shadows and re-emerged next to Tooth. She, however, was quick enough to pull out a dagger from under the hem of her skirt and have it levered over Pitch's heart as fast as he took on a peaceful look—or as peaceful as that scowling, sharp featured, face got. Pitch held both hands up in the air and sent them each a wary gaze before Tooth looked to him, which he nodded to, followed by her dropping the dagger but not sheathing it.

"Drake is growing anxious with Jack's continued presence in his City. He fears Jack will become like his father and hunt us down." Pitch stated without a hint of emotion to his tone. Out of the corner of North's eye he noticed that Sandy's head had tilted and it was gazing at something directed at Pitch's chest. "I suggest, since Jack happens to be aware of what you lot are, that you are _careful_ in how you _all_ act when Drake visits. He's looking for sure signs that Jack is aware of what his friends are and a _turtleneck_ isn't going to hide _your_ marks, Aster."

Aster balked. "How—what—How does everyone know it was me!?"

North tucked his own dagger away and shook his head. "This is not good."

"I dropped by in my split moment of freedom from Drake while he slumbers for the morning." Pitch stated, glaring towards each of them. "Make sure my _warning_ doesn't fall on deaf ears. Drake is after Jack, and when he gets done with him I have a feeling you lot are next on his chopping board."

Without anything more Pitch stepped back into the shadows and left as soon as he had emerged. Aster huffed.

"Well, that's just wonderful." He griped.

"It's your fault for biting him." Tooth replied, her tone similar to a sister who was arguing with her brother.

"Can it." He snarled at her before he stepped back as she narrowed her gaze towards him. "Oi, careful. Ya got away with the last punch but ya won't get away with a second."

Tooth snorted and went into her room, closing the door behind her. Sandy shook his head, snapping from wherever he had been and glancing between North and Aster as he went to his bedroom making hand motions towards him in particular about lecturing Aster on dating Jack. North leaned on the wall for a brief moment, Aster beginning to fidget nervously under his gaze.

"Ah cocked it up, didn't Ah?" Aster murmured.

North shrugged. "Jack has next two days off and Tooth's family member knows someone who does makeup…maybe we hire her to cover your marks on Jack's throat until they heal, dah? You…_are_ planning on eventual relationship with Jack…dah?"

"Yea." Aster agreed somewhat meekly, looking down at the hardwood flooring. "Ah mean…if he'll agree that is. Ah don't know, he may just be entranced with the idea of me being a blood sucker—ya know how some of 'em get."

North chuckled, noticing for the first time in awhile that Aster actually felt a little insecure about this whole arrangement. "Aster, you like him, dah?"

"Aye, Ah do." Aster nodded, scuffing his boot against the floor.

"You care for him?"

"Aye."

"You are happy with him?

North's heart tugged when he saw that rare smile cross Aster's features, the one that only Jack seemed to bring about. "Definitely, even if he does drive me berko."

"Good." North lifted a hand and set it on Aster's shoulder, giving him a reassuring nudge. "Just remember he is Human, be delicate and remember—he is a gift to be cherished while he lives."

"Yea." Aster sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Ah don't even know how he—"

"Do not worry, Aster." North conceded. "You will figure this out." North pushed from the wall after dropping his hand and opened the door to his bedroom as Aster went to his and feeling a twinge of mischief shoot through him he added, "Also make sure should you feed from him again it is in much less…noticeable spot, dah?"

North laughed heartily when Aster's entire frame tensed for a moment before he shot towards North's bedroom. However he knew Aster's lunge was coming and ran into his bedroom, closing the door before Aster's fists slammed onto it. Aster then kicked the door, swearing North out on the other side of it briefly before North finally heard the telltale slamming of Aster's door. North snickered when the loud mutterings next to his room, and the pounding of objects being set down too hard, stopped and pushed from his door to sleep for a few hours before tonight.

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I hope everything above is sound...Sorry it's a dull chapter.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer**: Any and all characters from Rise of the Guardians are copyright of DreamWorks. I created Drake, Doug, Diana and Laura (and possibly anyone else) to act as plot points so they are my creations.

Okay, now where was I in the last reviews for this story? It's been FOREVER.

To my only review since Chapter 8, **Kayla**: Boy are the next few Chapters going to be DOOZIES for you. Mwahahaha.

And to my PM buddy **Shanatic**: HERE TAKE IT AND LOVE IT. Pushy broad ;) Haha I love you.

**A/N**: You know for my cat dying earlier today I sure as hell am being productive. Guess it's the whole keeping busy to keep the mind off it thing. I know soon as I stop doing things the reminder that my cat died hits me in the head like a bus and leaves me kinda breathless with tears threatening to spill over. Phew, this Chapter goes out to her as well- I hope you readers don't mind. I love you guys, don't get me wrong, but I also very much loved that cat. She went through a lot of things with me :)

On a side note I'm glad some of you are enjoying Waiting on a Dream. I can't believe how popular that story is, hell I wish _this_ one got that kind of attention lol. And imagine, if it wasn't for writer's block and alcohol I'd have never posted that story.

Onto Manny's (holy shit it's an update!)-Edit: It took till now for us to realize this should have a Romance tag on it...just ignore me, the noob at posting, and my editor who doesn't watch me with an eagle eye XD It should be le fixed. Oh gawd I'm scared...

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**Chapter 9**: Three Days Grace

**Drake:**

Drake nodded to Pitch who robotically moved over to his desk and placed a manila folder on it then stepped away and took up residence in the seat across from him. For the past week since he visited Manny's he'd been eagerly awaiting for _something _to give away Jack's knowledge of his friends, but it had turned out to be nothing. He was also paying no mind to Pitch, mostly because the man was so far under his thumb thanks to the sire bond that he wasn't a worry anymore—aside from how fidgety he always seemed to get in Manny's. But he merely shrugged the twitching off as too much time under his control. He knew Pitch was extremely irritated with him for keeping him under the strong unyielding bond, but Drake at least knew that for the past week every time he woke up, Pitch had been sleeping in the bedroom below the warehouse just as he had commanded him too. Drake glanced up to Pitch and found him clenching his jaw for the third day in a row now this week.

"If you clench your jaw anymore you may flatten your fangs out." Drake murmured with a hint of humor. His brows knitted together in confusion though as he looked at the papers within the folder that Pitch had handed to him. He gazed up to Pitch, narrowing his eyes. "Are these right?"

Pitch's head nodded stiffly. "Of course they are. When have I ever been wrong when it came to gathering profit margins?" Pitch ground out angrily. "If I wasn't _good_ at what I did the your little Trojan company you have me running would've rapidly plunged to the _ground_ months ago."

Drake glared towards Pitch's scathing tone before he admitted that Pitch had a point. He didn't like the _tone _but didn't feel the need to really address it. Oddly he felt Pitch's irritation was in the right place—business related—which made him lack incentive to reprimand Pitch for his snarky tone.

He had put the man in charge of the company that acted as a mask for his real 'businesses'. Drake Industries may _advertise_ that they did Hospital related machinery, which is why Drake had so many warehouses these days, but it wasn't the _real_ backbone of his company. Though he had to admit, making medical supplies for the Hospital and charging them a discounted rate had proven to be a profitable idea that Pitch had came up with when the company faced bankruptcy months ago. But that wasn't Drake's _actual_ business. No, he ran this City with an eagle eye and made sure that anything that sparked his interest didn't make it past the front gate of his City. Figuratively speaking of course. He had his fingers into _everything_ and had the City's politicians and cops on payroll to ensure that not a single word of it got out to the masses. He had a finger dipped into _every_ illegal business and he made damn sure he bribed the cops to ignore them—unless it was from a rival. Then he allowed the them to attack with a vindictive speed.

What were some of his more _illegal_ activities? Well for one he ran the Blood Houses around town. Ten of his warehouses had been torn apart inside and refurbished with _many_ bedrooms and bathrooms. These Blood Houses held _many_ desperate men and women, hell even a few Supernaturals, who needed quick money in cash and only a _few_ of them were experienced donors. The experienced donors had marks that proved they were such, usually a scar at their throat or a branding somewhere on their body that marked where they preferred the Vampire to bite them. They were fairly successful and brought in a good chunk of income. Then there were the factories, and these were the real hellholes of the City. Here is where Drake 'convinced' rivals to allow him to join them in a joint partnership…otherwise he'd sic the moon crazed wolves he had in the pits on them—usually _after_ he had tortured the information he needed out of the soon to be victims.

Then there were the drug related businesses, the chop shops and to top it all off he even had a few illegal casinos in two of his warehouses where _all_ things were allowed. In all, he was making good business—which meant his pockets were full enough to own the entire City with a single paycheck. However, that wasn't what was baffling Drake at the moment. He was _well_ aware of how well his outlaying businesses were doing, what he couldn't figure out is how the _Guardians_ were doing so well. He'd snuffed their supplier, slapped them with ridiculous health codes over the past few months and now comes today where he finds out their business was _growing_ at an exponential rate.

"So they're getting _more_ business?" Drake asked, actually bewildered.

Pitch's head nodded curtly. "Why wouldn't they get _more_ business? They're standing up to you and finding ways around your rules without actually breaking them and the Supernatural community likes it while the Humans themselves are just enjoying the growing nightlife. They've ensured all of your codes have been met when it comes to cleanliness, they've twisted your rules on Supernatural and Human interaction by literally dividing the club into a single cohesive lounge area separated only by velvet rope and to make it even sweeter for them, their new supplier is so far underground that not even my _shadows_ can find them—and worse yet that supplier has some of the _best_ blood available on the market. Not to mention a healthy variety."

Drake narrowed his eyes. He'd need to find this dealer and see if he couldn't persuade the guy to his side, but that would definitely have to wait. "Interesting."

"There isn't anything interesting about it." Pitch muttered bitterly. "Do you forget that before you turned Sandy he, just like I, was a trained businessman also?"

"You weren't a trained businessman Pitch; you were merely intelligent enough to understand the system." He murmured in thought. "However you are very good at what you do."

Drake sat back and looked at Manny's income for the past three months. Their margins had improved exponentially, and he hadn't a clue why. Was there something drawing the crowds in, or was it just luck that they happened to have attracted the attention of a few anarchists within his City? He knew there weren't that many who were willing to admit to being in that particular position within his City, but he had no doubt _someone_ was spreading around things about him that was going to make shutting down the Guardian's business difficult.

As Drake heard the gears of the elevator outside of his office begin to turn he thought about the Guardians and how _all_ of this seemed to be linked somehow with that damn _Jack_. Was the kid acting as a light would for a moth, drawing people in and only letting them go because the club closed at night? It had been something Drake himself had noticed the few times he dropped by Manny's. Jack seemed impervious to the bad things that tended to happen to him in his klutzy states. He easily joked and laughed off his lack of grace while through the entire event grinned like an idiot and brought forth countless numbers of laughs from the VIP room patrons. They weren't laughs of pity either; they were genuine laughs of humor…laughs that usually coincided with fun. Drake's eyes narrowed. Was Jack's seamlessly endless ability to bring fun to Manny's the key to their financial growth? Or was it just dumb luck?

Drake smirked suddenly and he noticed Pitch stiffen in front of him. He gazed up to see Pitch's eyes glowing that silver hue as he looked at him warily. They both heard the elevator by this point, the sharp 'ping' as it reached the area just outside his office and sure enough Pitch's eyes narrowed and his mouth set in a firm frown before Drake's office doors slammed open. Drake leaned to the left and saw Diana walk in without so much as an apology for the intrusion.

"Alright, Drake, it's beginning to get old visiting that damn nightclub." Diana griped as she walked further into the office and spared a glance towards Pitch, lowering her sunglasses to the edge of her nose peering over them when she reached his side. "_Still_ needing a leash I see, Pitch."

"Apparently." Pitch muttered with an exasperated tone. "What do you want you useless brothel humper?"

"Funny." Diana replied sarcastically with a rolling of her eyes. She turned her gaze to Drake and crossed her arms. "Well, in reality I dropped by to inform you that Jack hasn't been in the club since three days ago. By which I mean I've been in that damn club Friday through Sunday without even a glimpse of Jackson Overland."

"Why?" Drake asked, becoming curious.

"Apparently it's midterms week and Sandy is a nice boss giving him the week off, starting Monday, to study." Diana shrugged. "So, if you don't mind, I'm going to skip out on going—"

"Every. Night. Diana." Drake snapped out. "You are going there _every_ night until we figure out just _what_ is happening in that club."

Diana scoffed, glaring towards him. "There isn't _anything_ happening in that club. Jack's oblivious to his friends!"

"And that's _her_ saying that, Drake." Pitch cut in, garnering his attention with his brows raised high on his forehead. "Drake, really, if _she_ is saying nothing is happening then you had better start thanking your lucky—"

"Enough!" Drake growled, standing from his desk and looming over it with a fiery gaze directed to the both of them. "Diana, get your ass to that nightclub every night until you find _something_ of interest. As for you," Drake turned his gaze to Pitch, "get to your office and get _back to work_."

Drake watched as Pitch stood from his seat and stiffly walked to his office door, his figure disappearing through it before he turned to Diana.

"Nothing?"

"Absolutely nothing." Diana sighed in confirmation, slumping forward.

"How did you figure out about Jack's days off?"

"The waiter who is covering for him in the VIP section told me." Diana smirked, curling an index finger in the air with a seductive smile. "I _might_ have influenced it from him."

Drake chuckled. "Did you take him home?"

Diana sighed. "No, I left him high and dry in the bathroom. You know how North is about his 'rules' within the club. Makes it a yawn-fest."

Drake turned the folder over to Diana with a smirk. "I may be purchasing that business soon. I haven't got the 'how' as of yet, but I am looking to dip my fingers into that particularly booming business, especially since I can't seem to shut the fucker down."

Diana leaned forward with a light to her eyes. She chewed on her lower lip for a moment, gazing at the folder's contents. Her eyes dimmed, however, as they zipped across the paper as her mouth fell agape.

"They're…making money? How? I thought you were thoroughly stepping on their toes."

"So did I." Drake sighed dejectedly before he turned and gazed down at the club in question, noticing the unmarked truck dropping something off at the door before driving away. "But it appears that they're much more inventive in their resources than I originally thought."

Diana cocked a brow, tapping an index finger against her lower lip as her brows knitted in the reflection from the window. Noticing this look, Drake turned a wary gaze towards her.

"What are you thinking?" He asked her, unable to keep the smirk from growing on his face.

"I'm _thinking_ I might get a friend to help me out today." Diana went over to the roll of index cards and began to flip through them. Drake was vaguely annoyed by how she just helped herself to his roller-dex of contacts. "Do you still have Michael Callahan on your payroll?"

"Yes…why?" Drake questioned genuinely curious to know why Diana needed the Werewolf, who was edging on Rogue of late, from the Alpha of the City's Werewolf pack. "What game are you playing?"

"I'm going to get him to help me sniff out Jack—." She said simply, nabbing up the card in question and then taking out her phone to dial the number.

"Do you even have Jack's scent?" Drake asked, cutting her off with not only his sharp question but a sharp gesture as well.

Diana threw her head back and laughed. "Of course I have Jack's scent! I have a napkin that holds his blood on it."

Drake raised a questioning brow. "How, let alone _why_, do you have that?"

"He's a klutz, Drake." Diana replied with a shrug before she smirked. "Also as to why I have it is simple: just in case I ever needed it—which I do now. That and the kid smells absolutely _delicious_. I don't know how those Guardians have kept from eating him."

"So you're going to use Michael as a Bloodhound?" Drake clasped his hands behind his back with a raised brow.

Diana nodded as she pressed the phone to her ear. "And hopefully as we track Jack we find out whether or not he knows about his friends."

"Get pictures if you can." Drake suggested, kneeling down and digging out a camera from the bottom of his desk. He placed it on the desk and pushed it towards her. "The more proof I have the _better_."

"Will do." Diana picked up the camera as the phone still rang. She then gazed at Drake with a lifted brow. "Why do you have a camera on hand?"

Drake shrugged. "It's actually Doug's. He left it here after last night's stake out."

"Michael!" Diana cried out enthusiastically as she winked to Drake. "Listen, baby, I need a favor…"

**Sandy:**

Sandy had woken later that week with a gnawing hunger, like he always did every afternoon. It was a great alarm clock, but a nuisance in its methods. He went up into the club from their bedrooms below and immediately noticed how eerily quiet it was without Jack there already causing trouble—usually in the form of pestering Aster about something, practicing drink mixtures with the added 'Red' ingredient while glaring and snarling along with Aster who would usually be teaching him, or when Aster wasn't up he was chatting with Tooth about Jamie—who she had taken an avid interest in of late. Sandy had noticed that as the week went by without hearing a peep from Jack, Aster had begun to act a little stranger than normal. Sandy hadn't expected such obscure silence from Jack. Tooth had been the one to quell Aster in the beginning with the text messages she received from Jamie that were short and brief, however this information didn't seem to help calm Aster…at all. Aster had grown anxious and nervous, especially with the chat he had heard through his door when North confronted Aster about his relationship with Jack. He also noticed that, even before that chat, Aster had taken on an odd possessiveness to Jack. It baffled Sandy to no end, mainly because he found it odd the second to youngest in their group had actually found someone that brought some form of life back into himself.

He couldn't put his finger on what it was, but it had impacted Aster in particular the most. For one: Aster had opened up a little more to the people of the club. His patrons didn't seem like they annoyed him anymore with their repetitive orders and he even found Aster taking time to talk to one or two people. Another thing he had noticed: Aster was smiling a _lot _more than he use too—and it wasn't just any smile, no, it was a genuine one and always directed towards one person in particular—Jack.

Sandy poured himself a glass of blood and took a seat as he pondered this obscure change in his normally reclusive friend-well, by this point, Aster had become like a brother to him along with all the other Guardians so he was more reclusive towards others than them. He briefly glanced up to use the remote to turn on the TV above Aster's bar and decided to watch the afternoon news for noise, the noise that Jack usually provided being filled by the chatter of the TV. He was so relieved to know, thanks to Tooth slowly coaxing Jamie back into talking to her in person after keeping his distance through text messages, which eventually turned into visits to the club where he was tense and wary until he got close to Tooth's bar and now she was talking to Jamie every so often for lunch breaks they had decided to start again even though Jamie was fighting with Jack. Through her they knew Jack was using his free time to study diligently. He heard something from the TV that brought his attention to it briefly. He gazed towards the scrolling headlines, a few car crashes, Drake Industries gaining another warehouse and then the last bit was the missing Politician who had mysteriously disappeared last night after taking a stance on Drake Industries getting another warehouse in the City.

Sandy scoffed. Sure, the Politician 'mysteriously' went missing. He wondered how much money Drake had to fork out to have _that_ headline edited to his liking. He rolled his eyes and took another healthy gulp of the blood he had poured for himself. He heard the sharp crack of a slap, which was nothing more than a playful one even if it _did _carry, followed by the telltale chuckling of Aster and North from below. The others were up early, apparently, and he briefly wondered why before he shrugged it off. North was _probably _watching his soap operas, Tooth was _probably _already awake and active after a short sleep session and Aster was _probably _looking to get into trouble after ensuring his plants were watered. He turned his gaze around to the VIP section as he heard the sure grinding of a lighter's gears to ignite and then the clicking 'poof' of the flame. He frowned, glaring towards Aster as he stepped from their stairway that lead down to their bedrooms with a lit cigarette between his lips and a metal lighter still encased in his hands. Sandy clapped his hands angrily, to which Aster halted his movement with wide eyes as he directed them towards Sandy.

_Aster, why don't you light those outside! Go outside with that before you light it!_ Sandy motioned with clipped and irritated movements. _No smoking inside!_

Aster glared towards him, prying the lit cigarette from his mouth after tucking his lighter into his back pocket. He snubbed the lit end with the pad of his thumb and tucked it behind his ear as he ambled out onto the main floor wearing a black leather jacket over a hunter green v-neck shirt and jeans with his hiking boots on his feet. He dropped by Tooth's bar and grabbed a tumbler, slouching into the seat next to him after pouring himself a glass of blood. Sandy noted that Aster looked anxious.

"Has Jacky called?" He asked him.

Sandy shrugged. _I haven't heard the phone ring for a few days now_. _Why? Hasn't he called you? Also did you talk to him about Drake like North told you too?_

Aster shrugged. "Just wonderin' and no, he hasn't called me. He's been as reclusive as a dropbear."

_Drop…bear_? Sandy raised a brow.

He glanced to him. "As reclusive as the Snipe?"

Sandy's brows rose. _Oh!_

"Yea, Oh!" Aster replied bitterly. "As ta whether or not Ah spoke ta him about Drake…Ah did, which is why Ah'm worried. He hasn't bothered ta return any of mah calls or texts aside from _maybe _a text that says 'Busy as a Bunny'." Aster halted all movement, his eye twitching. "Why the bloody hell did he start callin' me Bunny?"

Sandy chuckled silently. _Probably because North knew it would annoy you, Jack and North are cohorts when it comes to you. Aster, from what I hear he's very busy studying. I'd just be patient. I'm sure he's worried about Drake as we all are, but he does have a life he needs to check into on a regular basis_.

Aster was silent for a moment. Sandy watched his eyes, saw them stare off into the distance with a brief glimpse of panic before he sucked in a sharp breath. Sandy gave him a reassuring smile when Aster's green eyes landed on his with a cocked brow after he seemed to check back into reality.

"Ya happen ta know Jack's schedule? Ah can't get a hold of him—at all." Aster suddenly asked.

Sandy realized _that _was why Aster seemed agitated and anxious. He really was worried about Jack, and knowing Aster he was probably jumping to conclusions. However he stared at him in confusion when Aster's question bounced around in his head.

Sandy shook his head. _I know his __**work**__ schedule and I can tell you now he doesn't work until this coming Sunday—but not his __**personal**__ schedule. Ask Tooth for his personal schedule_.

Aster clapped his hands together and rubbed them before nodding. "Good idea." Aster stood, chugging the glass of blood as he walked across the VIP floor again, then when he finished the glass letting it hang from his hand as he lowered his arm to his side, shouted: "Toothie! Ah need yer feminine nosiness!"

Sandy rolled his eyes, knowing Aster was going to get decked again at some point in the next ten minutes by Tooth. He glanced to the door when he heard a knock on it. He stood, going to the entrance seeing the UPS looking truck driving away and a long, thin, box sat in front of the door. He picked it up awkwardly, marveling at how light it was despite how long and thin the box looked. He hauled it into the club, having a more difficult time finding a balance between the length and the small width of the box. He set it on the table in Aster's section of the bar before he saw Aster walk by again—that damn cigarette being lit again.

_Aster!_ Sandy clapped his hands again and Aster raised the back of his hand towards him in a backwards peace sign as he pried the employee entrance door open and stepped through it.

Sandy rolled his eyes, exasperated with the man. He had a _bad_ habit of lighting those things in the club and he tended to resist when they told him not to do it. He shook his head, shrugging it off. At least he went _outside_ with it at last, even if he wanted Aster to _light_ it out there as _well_ as take it out there. Sandy glanced up when Tooth came up the stairs, practically vibrating with energy as she stepped up to Sandy.

"Aster and I are going to go meet Jack and Jamie for lunch. We'll be back around five, I have a feeling Aster is going to try to make Jack learn to drive his car and while they're doing that Jamie and I are going to sit and watch the hilarity. What's that?"

Sandy shrugged after taking a moment to comprehend what Tooth had just spouted towards him quickly. _Not a clue_.

Tooth shrugged in return and stepped forward, her multi-colored hi-low skirt billowing in the wind as she walked briskly towards the employee entrance. He winced when he heard the sure smacking of the clutch she held against Aster's arm, to which he heard Aster curse towards her before another sure smacking sounded out as the door closed. Sandy rolled his eyes, wondering just how much Aster had ruffled Tooth's figurative feathers to get her out the door with him. He also vaguely wondered why Jack wasn't responding to Aster's phone calls before he just shook off that drama and turned to whatever the mystery package in front of him was.

He turned his gaze back to the long package. It was about six feet long and barely five inches in width. He let one of his talons lengthen, mainly because he was too lazy to get a knife from the kitchen, and cut the tape that surrounded the border. He eventually flipped the lid of the package off and saw the blue silk cloth within. He shook his head, curious to know just _what_ was in this package. He pushed the cloth away after retracting his talon back into his hands and then he jerked his hand back with a sharp hiss when black smoke rose suddenly from his index and middle finger that had brushed against something solid and cold. He shook his hand out as he felt the residual heat that sat on the tips of his index and middle fingers while he glared towards the package.

_What the hell is in there that's edged with __**silver**__?_

He stuck the digits in his mouth for a split second and then, with much more care, opened the package. He stared at the silver edged Shepherd's crook that had a sickle blade where the crook was. There was a single solid oak center between that sickle edge and the blunted silver end of the staff. On an offhand thought Sandy vaguely recognized the staff as something that was somewhat similar to the one that Aster had in his weapons closet and he briefly wondered if there was a connection there, but his thoughts broke from that when movement from the corner of his eye drew his attention. He blinked, his gaze going to North who stepped up next to him with an approving whistle.

"That is a very interesting weapon…Sandy, thinking of picking up new weapon? Whips getting old?" North asked, hefting the staff into his hand and stepping back to give it a quick twirling while ever careful of the silver and keeping his hands strictly on the oak sections of the staff. He watched as North nodded as he balanced it on the palm of his hand and then swung it in a few more experimental swings and jabs. "This is made by expert."

_I sure didn't order it and __**no **__my whips aren't getting old!_ Sandy told him with clipped motions and his brows drawn before he glanced up to him with confusion. _I thought either you or Aster ordered it._

"I haven't ordered anything." North replied, cocking a brow. "You also know how Aster is when he is waiting for package. He sits at door till it arrives like pup waiting for owner to get home."

Sandy snickered at that image for a brief moment before he shook himself back. _Then who ordered—_

Sandy had been turning back to the package when he noticed something strange within the tissue of the box, which was why he stopped moving suddenly. He sucked in a sharp breath and withdrew the envelope, which was addressed to Jack, with elegant handwriting on the front along with frostings embedded into the edges of the silken envelope. On the back of the envelope was the rubber stamp of one of the Elder Fae families. Sandy lifted it and North's eyes went wide.

"This is gift to Jack from _their_ Elders?" North pressed, immediately looking at the weapon with jealousy. "Lucky bastard—but why send him this?"

Sandy rolled his eyes at North's jealousy and shook his head, tucking the envelope into his back pocket. _Give the staff to me; I'll stash it in my office until Jack gets back. Also, I don't have any idea why the Fae would be sending __**this **__to Jack_.

"Your office will be a good place to hide it for the time being…_after_ I have had time to play." North turned sharply away from him and chuckled when Sandy chased after him to get the weapon back from the man who would have it mastered by the time work started tonight.

**Jack:**

After seemingly a week of nothing but silence, Jack was surprised Jamie had finally spoken to him again. It had been through what sounded like a grudgingly given invitation for lunch on an unwanted phone call, but Jack was relieved to have heard from him all the same. He had been so upset with Jamie's reaction to finding out about _who _and _what _gave him the marks on his neck that he had honestly forgotten about everything else and focused purely on studying. Unfortunately it left him burnt out from the four midterms he had just taken in the course of the last three days. So, when he'd just walked out of his last one that Thursday morning he hadn't expected Tooth to show up at the café as well. Mainly because he thought this lunch was Jamie's way of initiating a dialogue between them again, but what he really hadn't expected was Aster to suddenly slide into the booth's seat next to him.

Aster's presence had opened up a can of worms Jack wasn't quite sure how to deal with. How did one go about explaining to the man you were 'unofficially' with that you'd 'forgotten' to reply to the texts and phone calls—even if he _had _been on Jack's mind when he wasn't studying. He glanced warily towards Aster, another person he hadn't spoken to for the past three days, and noticed how tense he was and how he was clenching his jaw. Jack winced, dragging the hood of his hoodie up, and looking out the window with a guilty feeling racking his chest. He'd been so obsessive with studying that he'd shucked a lot of things—it didn't help much that he had been weeks behind in everything, thanks to his various epiphanies and memories returning—not to mention how goddamn distracting Aster was, especially at the bar before Jack was given the week off. He sucked in a sharp breath when he felt Aster bristle next to him as he joked around with the waitress he knew from one of his classes, followed shortly by the waitress getting everyone's orders. Aster remained silent, the air around him feeling like static shocks thanks to his temper peeking. Tooth, in the meantime, spoke with Jamie in hushed tones and because of this Jack figured he _may _be escaping this without an attempt at his life.

Soon after their orders arrived, they ate their food in silence making quick work of the meal that was placed in front of them and ten minutes later, Jack wondering how Tooth and Aster digested their food, before Aster pulled him from the booth as he headed to pay for their bill. He then tugged Jack from the café, Tooth and Jamie splitting. Tooth heading to Manny's to await their arrival while Jamie just ducked off to head home. Then Aster did something that caught him off guard. He tossed the keys to his Jeep at him. Jack fumbled in catching them briefly before he sent a winning grin towards Aster as he tossed the keys in his hand, staring at the Jeep in front of him. He turned his gaze to Aster's, wincing at the hard gaze his green eyes held as he glared towards him.

"Yer drivin'…and don't crash mah car." Aster had told him with an edge to his tone. Jack got into the car and gazed at the three pedals below the steering wheel, then gazed at the stick to the right. "A'right, Jack, first rule of manuals—make sure the hand brake is up."

Jack watched as Aster pushed in the button to release the hand brake and then lowered it, to which the Jeep immediately began drifting backwards from its tilted parking spot giving Jack a brief heart attack before he fat footed the brake pedal in his panic. Aster yanked the hand brake back up and sent a satisfied, smug, smirk towards him. Jack glared back, his heart pounding from the car's sudden unexpected movement.

"You're already trying to sabotage me by giving me a heart attack, aren't you?" He sneered.

"Consider it payback fer ignoring mah phone calls and texts." Aster snapped in return not missing a beat before he began glowering towards him.

Jack huffed, frowning towards the pedals. He _hated _that Aster had a point and sucked in a sharp breath as he gazed at the mechanical mystery in front of him. "So…what do I do after the handbrake?"

"Far left pedal is the clutch." Aster told him with a simmered tone, leaning forward and indicating it by pointing at it. "Center is yer brake, right is yer gas. Now, if ya want ta do this right ya'll keep yer left foot on the clutch and move yer right between the brake and gas. So, push in the clutch and turn on the ignition."

Jack bit his lower lip as he pushed the clutch in, realizing it required a little bit of strength. "Why is this so…"

"Tight?" Aster raised a brow before his eyebrows rose and he snorted. "Not all of 'em are like that, but fer some reason this one is particularly harder ta push in. Ah keep meaning ta get it looked at, but maybe Ah'll get that done fer ya before Ah hand ya her."

Jack snickered as he laughed at Aster calling his dirty Jeep Wrangler a 'her'. Jack then sucked in a breath and prepared himself mentally for the oncoming scream fest that was Aster trying to teach him a manual before he followed Aster's directions. With a good portion of the day spent being yelled at about remembering to push the clutch in and when to switch gears, Aster finally told him to pull over with an irritated growl when the grinding of gears sounded out again. Jack threw his hands up in the air in defeat and pulled the Jeep over, wincing when the engine cut as he forgot to push in the clutch again. Aster groaned, yanking the handbrake up and then opening the passenger door. Jack got the hint and scooted across the seat into the passenger's and watched as Aster climbed into the Jeep with a sideways glance to him that was _filled _with annoyance.

Jack watched as Aster started the Jeep up easily after buckling in with Jack. He then watched as Aster seemed to move through shifting gears with such ease it made him both irritated and amazed. He took a brief moment to gaze at Aster in the sunlight, smirking briefly to himself when he gazed at his eye-candy—even if Aster _was_ pist at him. Jack knew he'd fucked up, and it wasn't even an official relationship yet. He snorted bitterly to himself as he turned away from Aster's _amazing_ self and barely caught Aster's glance his way before he directed his gaze out the window.

He was in deep shit already and he hadn't even managed to ask Aster to be his boyfriend yet. He shook his head, cursing how shy he was and knowing that no matter how much he batted his puppy dog eyes towards Aster there was no getting out of _this_.

"Sorry I didn't reply to you." Jack murmured in the quiet that had encompassed the Jeep as Aster drove.

He was about to add more, but then Aster turned the wheel rather harshly in what felt like a split decision that made Jack's continued apology die in his throat as he lurched to the right. Jack glanced over to Aster as he watched him drive past Manny's and headed towards the bridge that led to the outlaying wooded area. Jack turned a curious look to Aster and he caught Aster glancing towards him.

Aster sighed, shaking his head. "It's a'right. Ya needed ta study. Ah'm just pist ya didn't bother ta reply ta me more than ya did."

Jack's brows rose in shock. "If…ah…if I kinda _forgot_ I needed to reply to your texts…is that a good excuse?"

Aster scoffed. "How do ya bloody forget ta reply ta yer—"

"I was _weeks_ behind, Aster!" He barked indignantly. "Weeks! I was stressed out, and barely ate as it was. Not to mention I had the whole 'My foster brother won't talk to me' and the whole 'Drake is watching you at Manny's' bullshit you decided to drop on my head like an anvil not a day before I needed to start studying!" He sighed in exhaustion, slumping in his seat, putting his elbow on the armrest by the window as he looked out of it when Aster started the Jeep and began to drive it through the more wooded sections of the City. "That and I'm so confused…I—_We_—haven't…" Jack sighed dejectedly muttering more to himself than Aster: "What _are_ we?"

Jack ignored the chill that was causing the window to fog over ever so slightly from nerves and looked over to Aster who was chewing on his lower lip while he switched gears driving through the bumpy roads. He noted that Aster's eyes were focused on the road in front of him, yet they were glazed with thought and Jack could tell Aster wasn't entirely there. Sure, he wasn't likely to wreck the Jeep, but he wasn't _entirely_ paying attention either. Jack knew that feeling, that auto-pilot mode that Aster was currently in as thoughts milled about in his mind while his body filtered through the motions of daily life. He sighed, blinking tiredly at the things to the side of the road and realized they weren't going anywhere he knew of. He sat up, brows knitting together in confusion.

"Aster…where are we going?" Jack asked, turning to look at him.

When Jack finished turning to face Aster he noticed Aster cranked the wheel off to the left. The Jeep handled the bumps in the dirt road easily enough as he led the car along a vegetated path in the small wooded area of the City. Finally, after what was slowly becoming a grueling five minutes of silence and jarring bumps and dips, Aster stopped the Jeep on a small hill. Aster nodded, taking the keys out of the ignition and bailing from the car. Jack watched as Aster looped around the front of the Jeep and got to his door, opening it with a scowl and holding his hand out to him. He raised a curious brow before he took the hand and was led from the Jeep.

Aster tugged him along a path, sending a glare up at the sunlight as he did so and then halted after stepping through what looked like an accidental archway that led out onto a small fenced in out cropped cliff. Jack stared at their interlocked hands for a moment, halfway expecting Aster to let go when they reached their destination, but he didn't. Jack stepped forward one step and rolled onto his toes. He blinked at the sight of the City below. After a moment Aster released his hand, kneeling down and then sitting on the dirt below their feet. Jack followed, crossing his legs and leaned his right elbow on his right knee as he placed his chin on the edge of his palm. He stared at the view before he glanced at Aster as he moved to dig out his cigarettes. Jack smirked.

"If you're dragging those out _something_ is bothering you." Jack murmured.

Aster glared towards him. "Yea, somethin' is botherin' me." He bit out in a clipped tone around the unlit cigarette he had stuck between his lips. "Ah haven't seen ya fer about four days now, not even heard a bloody word, yet there ya were in the café flirtin' with the bloody waitress!" Aster growled that last bit out. "What the fuck, Jack?!"

Jack's eyes widened, his mouth falling open. "How was I flirting with her!? She's one of my friends from one of my classes!"

"Ya were flirtin' with her!" Aster snapped before he lit the cigarette and glared off towards the City. "Ya even winked at her!"

Jack laughed suddenly, to which Aster only scowled back in reply. Jack glanced over, still laughing, which only doubled in its intensity. He bit his lip, unable to keep from laughing at Aster—who clearly didn't wear jealousy very well. Finally he recovered enough from his fit of laughter and blinked towards Aster.

"Aster, the wink was nothing more than me teasing her—non-romantically by the way. She had some guy come into the café last week who ordered something and winked at her suggestively after saying sausages." Jack snorted at the memory of June's morbid look as she told him about it while they had been studying in the library's group study room. "The lunch I ordered had sausage for a side, and that's why she blushed—it reminded her of the guy."

Aster didn't look convinced, especially if his jaw setting even more was anything to go by. Jack sighed, rolling his eyes. He huffed when Aster just shook his head and then Jack leaned forward—surprised when Aster leaned back away from him. He straightened indignantly at the outright rejection.

"Aster, I was just joking around with—"

"Jack! Ya _can't_ joke around like that with m-" Aster stopped suddenly, cutting himself off after having to shout to be heard over Jack. He clenched his jaw tightly and averted his gaze. "Ya just _can't_."

Jack's eyes widened and he tilted his head. "Aster, what's wrong? Why're you acting like this?"

"Jack, mate, Ah like ya—a lot." He added, glancing towards him anxiously. "Ah know Ah rant and rave at ya, but Ah swear—" He shook his head, snubbing out the cigarette without even taking a drag on it and then flicking it towards the path they had walked on. He ran his hands through his hair furiously with aggravated motions as his gaze looked out over the City. "Damnit Jack Ah don't know whether ta ring yer neck or—"

Jack smirked, realizing _his_ Aster was insecure about something. He mused for a moment on how outright _cute _that was—and yes, cute was something that was odd when associating it with Aster—before he sighed out and scooted back over to him. He gently lifted the man's right arm up, crawled onto his lap to straddle him as he planted both his knees on either side of Aster's thighs and set the man's arm back in place. He relaxed, the tense moment passing as Aster's arms wrapped around his waist with an unsure feel to them as he put his own hands on Aster's shoulders. It took a brief moment of just sitting there in his grasp before Aster's unsure grip loosened as the tension left his body.

He ignored the fact that Aster's face was literally inches from his as he said, "I'm sorry. I didn't know joking with my friend was going to cause you so much worry and I'm also sorry I forgot to return your calls and texts. I was just really busy—I forgot I even had a phone." Jack huffed as he tilted his head with an irritated look before he added: "That and I still haven't got used to the new one…let alone figured it out."

Aster rolled his eyes before he looked up at Jack. "Ya had me worried sick, mate. What with the Drake thing and how ya weren't responding…Ah thought ya'd taken off on me." Then his eyes narrowed as he said with a warning growl, "Don't do it again."

"I won't, at least not on purpose." Jack chuckled when Aster glared at him. He shrugged. "Aster, you were onto something when you called me a…err…"

"A dill? A drongo? A galah?" Aster supplied before Jack sat back and rolled his eyes.

"Alright, alright! I get it!" He chuckled when Aster's eyes lit with humor briefly. "But you can't stop me from teasing my friends—you just need to know the difference."

"The difference?" Aster balked, pushing Jack's shoulder to get him to sit back again after he had risen onto his knees again. "What difference?!"

"The difference between me teasing them, and me _teasing_ _you_." Jack smiled at Aster, acting as if Aster _hadn't _just shoved him back—even if it was a loving shove.

"Ya don't tease me, mate, ya torture me. There's a _large_ difference there." Aster muttered as he released his hold on Jack's waist, crossing his arms and glaring towards him. "The difference lies in how much Ah always want ta deck ya after ya get done."

Jack snickered, letting silence fall between them for a few moments before he sucked in a sharp breath. "So…what did you want to talk about? You _looked _as if you wanted to talk in the café before everything kind of went sour…or was I reading you wrong—again."

Aster sighed, wrapping his arms back around Jack's waist and absently running his hands over his back, fingers kneading muscles as he glanced away for a brief moment before Aster sucked in a sharp breath and stated: "Our relationship."

Jack perked up briefly with a jolt of excitement before his insecurity about how he had gone about the week set in. He'd never deflated emotionally so fast in his life as panic gripped his heart. Jack cleared his throat before he then asked, "So, what _are_ we? Co-workers with benefits?"

Jack watched in horror as Aster's face remained unmoving, the only hint that Jack's suggestion had even hurt Aster was the flicker of heart breaking anguish in his eyes followed by him saying, with an exhausted air: "Is that what ya really want?"

Jack knew the second it left his lips it was a mistake. Of course nerves never _did _make for a smooth Jack. Aster glanced to the left, his jaw clenching after Jack had said that. Apparently the humor in his voice hadn't carried as well as he thought he had delivered it. Jack sighed, getting _real_ tired of Aster averting his gaze with a clenching of his jaw being the initial answer to everything. He turned his eyes back to the wooded area behind them and swore he saw a bush move briefly before he wondered what, or even _if_, Aster was going to answer him. Were they friends? Were they friends with benefits? Were they an _item_? Or was Jack nothing more than a friend who was a fallback donor for Aster, who he also happened to like having heated make out sessions with? His heart dipped and faltered as the seconds ticked on in silence. He felt his confidence waver as he milled those thoughts through his head before he felt Aster's left hand slip along his back to his side where Aster then reached out to his left hand and took it into a tight grip. Jack smiled, wondering if this movement was the signal that told him this was going to take the turn he wanted it too.

He turned his gaze back to Aster after looking at their hands again, whose eyes were glowing a bright green. "Ah like ya, Jack. Ah like ya enough ta call ya mah boyfriend. But ya _need _ta respond ta me when Ah'm tryin' ta get a hold of ya."

Jack grinned, throwing Aster's hand off of his and lurching forward as he threw his arms around his neck from unadulterated joy. Aster's movements were a bit stiff at first from the sudden movement, but they relaxed and he hugged him, Aster's head tilting briefly to nuzzle the spot he'd bit a little over a week ago.

"Ah'll take that as a 'yes'?" Aster asked as he straightened.

"A _relieved_ yes." He replied with an exhale.

"Now Jack, Ah need ta talk ta ya about dating one of us." Aster stated, his tone taking on an edge to it. "It isn't all happy dreams and ecstasy and all ya need ta remember is fairly simple. Ya need ta remember _what _Ah am, even when Ah forget. Ah'm not Human, Ah could hurt ya—just remember that. Ya need ta think of yerself first. Ah can easily recover, _ya _can't."

Jack nodded earnestly, leaning back and gazing towards Aster's lips wanting to kiss them but instead derailing the entire conversation with, "So…what're you doing tomorrow?"

"The same thing Ah do every night, Jack, bartending." Aster replied with a smirk before his gaze became cautious. "Why?"

"Think you can hang out during the day and then bail out at about eleven that night and go do things with me?" He asked with a devilish grin.

"Probably." Aster shrugged his shoulder, his gaze still wary.

"Good. Tooth knows where to go already for tomorrow night, but I'll leave a surprise for the day." Jack snickered when Aster cocked a brow.

"And _where_ does Tooth already know where ta go tomorrow night?" Aster asked.

"Nowhere!" Jack said innocently, rolling his eyes away.

Aster growled with irritation before the next thing Jack knew his throat was being nuzzled again and he felt the sure scrape of Aster's fangs along it. He shuddered at the feeling, his hands lacing behind Aster's head and gripping the base of his neck with his left while gripping his shoulder with his right. Jack sucked in a sharp breath, moving to straddle Aster better and barely having the time to adjust correctly before Aster's mouth was on his in a demanding kiss that had his hands beginning to roam along Jack's body making him writhe and arch. It was so sudden that Jack was both surprised and extremely pleased by Aster's actions. Hell, the only reason that heated kissing and groping session ended was because Jack needed to breathe.

Aster lifted one of his hands that had roamed dangerously low on Jack's back, reaching up to run the pad of his thumb over his cheek and while Jack marveled down at Aster—glowing green eyes and elongated fangs hedging his lower lip, completely alien yet still entirely Human even if he denied it. Jack leaned forward and gave a brief kiss to Aster's nose, making it scrunch as he leaned back.

"It's almost five, you better pick up that cigarette you littered the ground with and head to work." Jack chastised with a smirk, even if his heart _did _sink at the knowledge that Aster had to get to work and he still had to officially talk to Jamie and clear up that mess as well.

While he was lost in thought he jumped when he felt a quick slap to his ass, which he absolutely loved as it sent a thrill through him, coming from Aster's other hand that _had _been lingering low on his back. Jack raised his brows towards Aster in surprise.

Aster grinned, flashing his fangs almost proudly. "Ah'm not done with ya yet, mate."

Jack blew a raspberry towards him. "Yes you are. It's now five o'clock and your ass has to get to work. So get moving grandpa."

Aster chuckled. "Grandpa? Ya got some kink fer old blokes ya want ta tell me about there Jacky?"

"Yea," Jack leaned forward, watching as Aster's eyes took on another wary look as he got closer, "I like my men older than me and close to death.

Aster snorted out a laugh, catching the joke this time before he leaned back and muttered: "Ya bloody show pony."

* * *

Lotsa goodies for you lot in the above. Normally I don't like leaving things at the bottom of this story but if you've read this far then you have time for a little more. I'm thinking about adding to this story a Prologue story, covers in detail each Guardian's life before Jack arrived. It should be fairly short and I'll keep it about 3K or so words for each entry. If you would _**like**_me to do this then by all means let me know when you leave me a review for this story! I would drool if I could get enough people to support the idea of a Prologue-like mini story to supplement this one :)

I'm out, WoaD (Waiting on a Dream) to be updated probably late tomorrow afternoon my time (PST).


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